This is a beginning to a story I was going to write. I wrote this about a year ago, and forgot all about it. And now I've found it again, I'm completely stuck on what to write next!
From which only dreams are true
We sit, leaning into the warmth of the river bank, our heads tilted upwards to the dark night sky, watching, waiting.
Then the moon appears, swimming out from the dark clouds that surround it. We look on, holding our breaths, still waiting.
At last, it comes towards us, floating steadily down the river bed. That mass of silver, drifting so readily, approaching us. It is nearly here, so close. We stretch out our fingers to touch it, to devour it. Then we blink, for it is gone.
A moan ripples through our gathering, growing louder and louder. I press my hands to my ears, harder and harder, until I realize that it is a song. A variety of sound, strung together, no words, or sense, just a song.
A strong gust blows, my hair flying out from my hood, we all stumble around, and clutching each others hands, we circle round and round. Now we rise up into the night, a hundred bodies as one.
The song reaching its end in an ear splitting wail. It is now I realize, the song is not from my people. It's from the heart of heavens. The Devils singing … his sweet sweet song
We struggle onwards. The desert is empty, lost of sound or feeling, a time warp, lost in existence. And as the sun disappears, it is like a replay, another day started, years onwards, we lose feeling of time or place, continuing only for our mission.
I scramble over the dusty rubble aligning our camp, clutching my cloak and a beeswax candle. I run faster, my feet hitting the ground in pounding fury, it is time at last, to continue the journey which only I must take. As I reach the edge of the horizon, I stop only to face the camp, my voice hoarse in my throat. "Goodbye Ma."