Standing there on the empty colourless desert, not knowing where to go. Wanted to go nowhere. Then, I started listening to some musical notes. At first, I thought they came from the very inside of me, an echo of long forgotten songs.
As it became clearer, I realised it came from a point ahead and made an effort to drag myself on. It took me forever, this first step, for my feet weighted like plumb. Then another one, which was a bit easier, and I found I could actually walk. The music was nearer and finally I arrived at a smooth valey in the dunes. Slightly down, there was a small lake, shining under the bright light of the noon sunshine. I fell on my knees and took some drops of water into my dried lips.
Then I felt some sort of a glitter that blinded my eyes and looked around. Just beside me, I noticed pieces of an unknown material that reflected the sunbeans. I crawled there and watched it closely. And there they were… like a broken puzzle, all the pieces of me. All I had lost along the way.
I recognised them at once and felt totally at a lost, not knowing where to start rebuilding myself. I took one piece, then another. They didn’t fit together, so I put them aside and tried another one. This one didn’t fit any of them either. I looked at the whole pile of small pieces and almost succumbed before this endless task.
Then the music sounded louder and more powerful. I looked around and noticed the musician who was playing under a palmtree. Then I finally paid attention to the lyrics. They told stories about lost love, about stop believing, about faith that was gone forever.
I shook my head, then sat down and started set the pieces of the puzzled me on different piles according to their images. I turned my head to him and shouted : ” It won’t be like that, I refuse to believe everything is gone forever! I can’t bear to think I am no longer !”. He seemed to smile at me, although I wasn’t too sure of that. Simply went on singing and playing, his voice more powerful at each minute.
I sighed… and slowly, patiently, started setting-up my own self.
April 16, 2008
Categories: Inside . . Author: Sand Posthorn . Comments: 3 Comments