Once when I was out and came back to, I realized a stupid
man couldn't tell you what a smart man said.
I was with my sister. She was telling me to do something to
the radio because it wasn't working and then I felt like we were driving in the
wrong direction for a very long time, though the road turned quite a bit, and
on some of these turns, the side opened up and I could see down to where the
town was. But the road turned some more, or it felt like we were following a
long intricate coil inward, until I was quite sure the side would never open up
again. For it felt like the center of this thing we had entered had no sides.
It was an absolute center. Night crowded around us. She said we're here and
pulled the car over.
We got out of the car. I couldn't see anything.
I asked her what are we doing here.
She said, we're not doing anything.
Or she said something else. Perhaps I was the one driving
and she wanted to know why I had taken her on this mission. Had she called it a
mission? It felt like a mission, two people, a brother and sister, after
something, not home per se, but maybe that feeling. Or neither of us spoke.
Since then, I have thought of it. OR. Of something else. Which we heard then in
the bushes.
Is someone there? we asked. The side of the road was thick
with bushes, trees wet with shadows, shadows doubling themselves, the sounds
flat, but coming distinctly from within there.
I could not see her but I knew she was looking at me and was
afraid.
I said to her I hope someone is there because if someone is
there, I'll kill him. I punched the air a couple of times and pretended to
squeeze the head of someone. We got back in the car and drove home in quiet.
There seemed like there were less turns on the way back too. It was, in fact, a
straight line home.
No comments:
Post a Comment