Subconscious Spelunking

February 11, 2018February 16, 2018 ~ Piece, of the Sky

inside our hearts

The first tendrils of the sunset crept across the sky. Orange fingers of clouds, set on fire by the dying sun, sunk lower in the oncoming gloom. Alli put her paddle in on one side and then on the other, kayaking down the slow river.

The water was clear in this part of the river, whereas, where she had started out was muddy. She had almost capsized then but had righted herself.

The river had started out a backwoods stream, tangled up in the mangrove forest, before widening out and cutting, like a scythe, through the landscape. Bushes on the banks gave way to trees. Houses dotted the shores.

Nothing escaped the sun’s rays, before it was enveloped in darkness. Water birds, restless, took off from their perches. Distant crows cawed, out of sight. Frogs burped and bellowed in the tall marsh grasses.

Alli paddled on, bright yellow kayak headed for the rushing mouth of the river, where the silt delta met the sea. The air was warm, and the occasional blue dragonfly darted by, zooming away into the humid night.

The dock materialized out of the stale air, and the mists of heat rising from the river. Alli got out and tied the boat to the dock, stowing the oar. The sun was well on its way down by now. The sky blazed a painful red and Alli knew it would rain tomorrow.

Inside the riverside cabin, Alli powered up the gas stove. Outside, the fiery blue mosquito light singed and zapped bugs in its cage. Alli put beans from the can on the burner in a tin cup and broke an egg on top of the beans. She ate the meal, and a slice of bread, with a pat of butter scraped across it.

When it was about to rain, Alli’s hamstring acted up. Nealy had sewn it back together a year ago, dabbing away the warm blood and calming down a hysterical Kaan. A year ago. Alli had worked her way back to full health then. But every time it rained, there was that old twinge.

The river carried old logs and tree branches by the house. The debris caught the posts of the dock and was diverted momentarily, tumbling and spinning in the water. Alli made some thin soup from a ham bone, before putting out the fire and going to sleep.

In the dream, ants flowed in between her toes. Alli chased after the boar in the wilderness. During the night, in the jungle, Alli cornered the red-eyed pig and speared it, the tear-shaped blade sinking into a roll of fat on the beast’s neck.

Yet, in its death throes, the spirit beast, of shadow and smoke, lunged and struck Alli, again on her hamstring, with its serrated tusk. The animal collapsed, crumbling into dust and ashes. Cicadas screamed in the underbrush. Cataracts vaulted into their basins. Every drop of moisture in the forest resonated. Alli’s skin grew cold and she sat down heavily on the ground.

Then, in that Hades, the goddess Artemis appeared, and held the wounded hunter. Light filled the woods. Wind battered the trees. Alli fainted and the gash healed, leaving no scar behind. Fountains of water gushed up from the earth, cleansing the blood away.

“Where were you, when I needed you the most?”

psychic thunder

Songs:

豊平区民TOYOHIRAKUMIN – 夕暮れsunset

Eagles – I Can’t Tell You Why

Wham! – Careless Whisper

Utada Hikaru – Simple and Clean

Internal Winds

February 9, 2018February 10, 2018 ~ Piece, of the Sky

masters of the trap

Alli walked down the street at night. Long shadows. Post no bills. The wind lifted old pieces of newspaper up and held them in the air like ghosts, before dropping them flat on the ground, as if the moment of flight had never happened.

But Alli wasn’t paying attention to that. In a leather jacket, Alli walked past chain-link fences, along the overpass, and over a tumulus of fallen leaves. She was on her way The Gem.

It was easy to miss. The building was slung low, hunched, almost sinking into the ground. A single, white neon sign depicting a diamond was the only symbol that indicated where she was. Alli opened the wooden door, with a square of stained glass at eye-height.

The juke box was going at a muted volume. The creaking fan spun at a lazy speed. Heads hung low, discussions hushed. The aging barkeep slowly wiped the counter down with a soft cloth.

Alli ordered a martini, with a lemon peel. Marta, sat on her usual stool, wearing her flowered hat, stirring her mint julep. She came to the bar to read.

Kaan appeared on the stool next to her, also in a leather biker jacket, and a wife beater. Alli sipped the martini, “Do you have your gear?”

“Sure do,” Kaan said pulling a cloth-wrapped bundle from her leather jacket.

“Let’s go over there,” Alli gestured. They slid into a booth, ducking beneath the low-hanging ceiling beams.

Kaan unwrapped the item in the red cloth. It was a deck of cards, the Rider-Waite Tarot deck. She shuffled the deck and dealt seven cards, face down. From those seven, she pushed the last three forward, “Past. Present. Future.”

Alli eyed the cards and then looked up at Kaan, “Go on.”

Kaan flipped the first card: “Knight of Swords. Dashing off toward adventure. Careening toward danger. Loyal, but contending with many forces, buffeting winds. True?”

Alli nodded and took another sip of her drink.

“Second card, the Star. Liminal card. One foot on dry land, the other on water. A card of selflessness. Also, a card of internal re-awakening. True?”

Alli nodded for Kaan to continue.

“Final card. King of Cups. A sensitive person. An adviser in high places. Contemplative. Pensive.”

Alli, again accepted the card, folding her hands.

“The transition is from land to water, from the frenetically bellicose to tranquility and self-awareness.”

“It’s a good narrative,” Alli said.

“But you’re not at peace,” Kaan replied.

Alli looked down, studying the whorls in the table.

Kaan leaned back, into the black upholstery, “It takes two to break up. You will wonder what you could have done better for a long time. But the truth is you couldn’t have done anything better. You haven’t lost anything, because you never gained anything in the first place.”

Alli looked up at Kaan, with more hostility than she meant to.

“It’s going to take a long time to understand that it wasn’t your fault, that you need to stop blaming yourself. Ultimately, you must forgive yourself.”

Alli also sat back, exhausted – even though it was only the beginning of the night.

Kaan looked around, and caught sight of Marta, in her yellow hat, “Is she always here?”

Alli looked past Kaan, following Kaan’s line of sight, “She’s been coming here for twenty years. Every night, same seat.”

Kaan looked back at Alli, “Must be a good spot.”

the matrix, still the best