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LJ Idol Week 16
Aug. 2nd, 2014 08:40 pmThey had been sitting in the branches of the high tree for hours. The sun was still up, sending its warmth down to the lush green ground that had already started getting covered with fallen leaves.The other man, who had introduced himself as Remulus, stood still on one of the higher branches and he did, so it seemed, not only observe the ground below, but also John, who was sitting quietly and almost motionless on a lower branch to the left. John was not the real name of the man concerned, but Remulus had to address him in some way, and so he asked his new companion by which name he wished to be referred to. “John” was the first name that man uttered and Remulus did not ask further and accepted having to call him by this name from now on.
John knew he had to have a real name, somewhere behind the wall that separated him from his about 30 years of memories, in a place he must have lived when he still remembered. He had not given up trying to find a trace, a sign, some leftover piece of that memory, but, for now, he had turned to a state of momentarily acceptance that calmed him down enough to think clearly and follow the undertakings of Remulus.
Remulus’ rugged appearance had made John feel uncomfortable at first, as he stood there, wild ungroomed black hair, thick and barely touching the shoulders on which he wore a leather coat that had surely seen younger and better days. However, as John did not know any obligations that were his own, as there was no hint of a former life which could have entitled him to any rights or duties, he was utterly thankful being allowed to follow Remulus, although John suspected he should not be of any use to this strange thin man.
John had not heard a single sound for a long time, not a breath or a voice. The occasional singing of the birds and hammering of sparrows had been added to the sound background that haunted his squirms anyway, so he almost drifted into a half-sleep by closing his eyes, succumbing to the dark, when something struck him.
It came from far away, a dull sound which revealed itself to be a rhythm of repeating beats as it came closer. John looked up to Remulus who nodded and turned away in direction of the approaching rhythm. John now recognized what it was. This hammering movement, this strong staccato came from the hooves of a huge horse. As John could now barely observe, a small human being, most probably a woman, was riding that horse, leaning across, her hands to the right and the left of the horses neck. Remulus statue stiffed, the eyes fixated on the first beings that had come here since they had mounted the tree for some unknown reason.
They had almost reached the tree and John noticed the rosy cheeks of the rider, who was, in fact, a woman wearing a black helmet, gloves, leather riding boots and a tan-coloured vest over a read sweater.
John expected them to pass the tree and dive into the distance, disappearing behind the numerous trees, hidden by the green.
The steady rhythm continued until the horse had reached the tree and was only a few metres away from John’s feet on the tree branch. A sudden flash, or cloud of light (John’s eyes shut themselves to protect them from observing further and getting exposed) then disrupted the scene.
When he opened his eyes, the horse was still there, it had stopped and stood, breathing heavily, where it had been left, for in the saddle on its back, no woman was sitting anymore. John first thought she might have fallen when the horse had stopped its itinerary all too abruptly. But there was no woman. Instead, there was a second horse standing there, not a colt, but looking like it had just been born, looking confused and bewildered.
Remulus made the first move, jumped down from the high branch (John wondered if he actually had ankles made of iron, as the cracking sound he expected when Remulus’s feet hit the ground could not be heard).
John observed, still puzzled, Remulus walking to a spot near the horses and pick something up, a small piece that might have been a stone to John’s unknowing eyes. Remulus carefully took the piece, examined it for a moment until he let it slip into a small velvet bag he took from the pocket of his leather coat.
“Come”. Remulus ordered John to jump of the tree branch. He obeyed, but raised his voice then, hesitantly.
“The horses..” His voice was rusty, as if it had not been in use for years.
“We are going”. Remulus did not seem as if anything could persuade him to take on plans other than the ones he had and so John walked off with him from the strangely distorted scenery.
The piercing whinney of one of the horses they now left behind touched some of the blank strings of John’s mind. When and where, he did not know, so, for now, he followed.
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This is an entry for week 16 of LJ Idol, this week's topic being "A terrible beauty has been born". The entry was inspired by a dream I had years ago and some ideas I had following that dream. Usually, dreams come in and they fade as they leave, but this one still remains.
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John knew he had to have a real name, somewhere behind the wall that separated him from his about 30 years of memories, in a place he must have lived when he still remembered. He had not given up trying to find a trace, a sign, some leftover piece of that memory, but, for now, he had turned to a state of momentarily acceptance that calmed him down enough to think clearly and follow the undertakings of Remulus.
Remulus’ rugged appearance had made John feel uncomfortable at first, as he stood there, wild ungroomed black hair, thick and barely touching the shoulders on which he wore a leather coat that had surely seen younger and better days. However, as John did not know any obligations that were his own, as there was no hint of a former life which could have entitled him to any rights or duties, he was utterly thankful being allowed to follow Remulus, although John suspected he should not be of any use to this strange thin man.
John had not heard a single sound for a long time, not a breath or a voice. The occasional singing of the birds and hammering of sparrows had been added to the sound background that haunted his squirms anyway, so he almost drifted into a half-sleep by closing his eyes, succumbing to the dark, when something struck him.
It came from far away, a dull sound which revealed itself to be a rhythm of repeating beats as it came closer. John looked up to Remulus who nodded and turned away in direction of the approaching rhythm. John now recognized what it was. This hammering movement, this strong staccato came from the hooves of a huge horse. As John could now barely observe, a small human being, most probably a woman, was riding that horse, leaning across, her hands to the right and the left of the horses neck. Remulus statue stiffed, the eyes fixated on the first beings that had come here since they had mounted the tree for some unknown reason.
They had almost reached the tree and John noticed the rosy cheeks of the rider, who was, in fact, a woman wearing a black helmet, gloves, leather riding boots and a tan-coloured vest over a read sweater.
John expected them to pass the tree and dive into the distance, disappearing behind the numerous trees, hidden by the green.
The steady rhythm continued until the horse had reached the tree and was only a few metres away from John’s feet on the tree branch. A sudden flash, or cloud of light (John’s eyes shut themselves to protect them from observing further and getting exposed) then disrupted the scene.
When he opened his eyes, the horse was still there, it had stopped and stood, breathing heavily, where it had been left, for in the saddle on its back, no woman was sitting anymore. John first thought she might have fallen when the horse had stopped its itinerary all too abruptly. But there was no woman. Instead, there was a second horse standing there, not a colt, but looking like it had just been born, looking confused and bewildered.
Remulus made the first move, jumped down from the high branch (John wondered if he actually had ankles made of iron, as the cracking sound he expected when Remulus’s feet hit the ground could not be heard).
John observed, still puzzled, Remulus walking to a spot near the horses and pick something up, a small piece that might have been a stone to John’s unknowing eyes. Remulus carefully took the piece, examined it for a moment until he let it slip into a small velvet bag he took from the pocket of his leather coat.
“Come”. Remulus ordered John to jump of the tree branch. He obeyed, but raised his voice then, hesitantly.
“The horses..” His voice was rusty, as if it had not been in use for years.
“We are going”. Remulus did not seem as if anything could persuade him to take on plans other than the ones he had and so John walked off with him from the strangely distorted scenery.
The piercing whinney of one of the horses they now left behind touched some of the blank strings of John’s mind. When and where, he did not know, so, for now, he followed.
**********************************************************************************************************************
This is an entry for week 16 of LJ Idol, this week's topic being "A terrible beauty has been born". The entry was inspired by a dream I had years ago and some ideas I had following that dream. Usually, dreams come in and they fade as they leave, but this one still remains.
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