The
howling…
Story:
Today started out like any other day, sun glaring down, dust in the air,
and my eyes adjusting to hues of reds, browns, and the yellows of morning.
Standing motionless, I took a moment and searched the horizon for movement, any sign of life. I use my
senses to locate differences in the world as I know it.
If I find difference and change, however slight, I find something I didn’t know;
something to peak my interest for yet another day, life is in an altered state.
Differences in my world are cherished.
I pray no two days are alike, and for my efforts I have been rewarded
with an appreciation of nuances, for if confined to reflections of the past, my
life would become mired in boredom and obscurity; my life would end before my
tears. There would be no need of me; there will be neither questions to ask nor
answers to fear. In my own way, I have become a record of all I experience, a
chronicler of sorts. Asking
questions is my greatest love. It is
the answers I fear, for to hear a whisper is not to be alone, and I have been
alone too long. If I am not
alone, shall I surmise the remainder of my life?
My solitude is interrupted as weary eyes focus on a dust cloud rising
swiftly in the distance. I can
make out light and dark masses swirling in the funnel; the creature has started to eat! In
an instant and to my amazement the funnel quickly grew to one hundred feet at
its base and the magnificent serpent now touches the clouds. I
turn my eyes in the direction of the nearest outcropping to get a bearing on its
direction; a bearing on its intentions. I
start to run. I’ve learned from
experience that if I concentrate on nothing else but the far off rumbling of the
beast, I can read its distance by counting lows and highs in volume.
The beast has seen me and has fixed on my location.
The staggering behemoth is moving towards me very quickly.
This doesn’t look good, as I
slept last night in the middle of a barren plateau; there is no place to hide.
Helpless
to do anything, rocks watch the scenario play out from afar.
My only chance is to run in the opposite direction while seeking a
shelter in the earth; a hole, a crack. The
swarming, screaming, cloud is now a thousand feet tall and perhaps two hundred
fifty feet across its base. As if to
threaten, the creature screams and howls in my direction.
In a matter of seconds, I’m being shoved by stinging, invisible hands.
Not to heed it’s pounding and stinging is to suffocate while climbing
to the stars. I’ve
seen these destroyers before; off in the distance, eating all in their paths while
ripping the sky! Then,
in an instant, gone! Bellies full,
they disappear into some obscure dimension, only to reappear in another place,
another time; another feeding time!
Its breath is upon me now, stinging my back while whipping cool sweat
from my shirt. I can feel its claws
ripping and burning my skin. Its
lumbering, staggering pace is the drunk no one waits for.
The pounding vibration under my feet is sending sharp pains up my legs
and I can no longer anticipate its path. The
dry grasses caught up in its furry are piercing my skin and stripping the flesh
from my ankles. Shards of debris rip
at the back of my arms while salt from my sweat mark the locations.
Like razor beaks of crows, the creature is slicing my flesh before feasting.
I can’t take much more. In
my delirium I am yelling at it; catch me if you can, catch me if you can you
bastard! If I could only find a hole to hide in, its gate and momentum would carry
the lush past my table! The
screaming has pierced my ear drums and the caked sand encrusting my eyelids has
sealed them shut. I’ve covered my
face with my hands while running blind. Without
warning, the earth vanishes beneath me; with great force I slam repeatedly into
the ground as the beast tries to suck me up, again and again.
With bloodied finger tips, I crawl forward, digging into the earth.
A crevice has found me in the blinding storm.
The howling is moving on to easier game and indifference stops it
from looking back. The drunk has gone home without me. Tranquility has
followed its footsteps; has mimed its stagger for I will rest until tomorrow.
For lack of a better word, I will name this creature, ‘tornado’. RJ