The sun shone cold on his face, warmth sapped by the frozen ocean of sky over his head
and all his limbs shook with that clinging frigid death. It pooled around him as he stood, radiating despair, casting it against the frozen ground like the gray light of a winter moon. He stood, breath freezing in front of his face, catching in his lungs, and he coughed blissfully in unison with the harrowed slaves, dragging their chains as they passed by him into the distance. He didn't know how long he had been standing there.
Perhaps he had always been there.
But inexplicably, he began to take a step. Frost crunched and fell from his clothing, his legs barely able to move, for he was tired from his long vigil. He lifted his leg, heavy with ambivalence, but the wind kicked up, driving him back with heart-piercing daggers. His tears froze on his face as he bowed his head against the gale, whimpers of pain ripped from his throat and swept away. But he stepped again, and again, his heart pumping vital suffering to every limb, until he was running. He ran until he reached the wooden pillar, jutting out from the middle of a frozen street, and he climbed up, heedless of the wind.
He pulled himself up to the top and stood as the wind ripped into his body and the gray clouds pressed close against his face, smothering him. All the sky crushed down on him.
He would set it free.
(He pulls off his jacket, peels off his shirt. He grits his teeth against the wind.)
He would set it free.
(...or does he smile?)
He would set it free.
(He stands, every muscle clenched in the most triumphant, soul wrenching fire.)
He would set it free, he thought.
And from the blackness behind his closed eyes, from the pit of his stomach and the grips of his shaking fists he rent the sky with his agony.
The clouds shattered like glass and fell to the ground, and the air caught fire, the cities fell and the earth crumbled.
He screamed because he had no words.
He screamed until reality shook around him.
He screamed until he forgot himself.
He screamed until there was nothing.
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2 comments:
Your take on the cave?
I like this -- and most other things of yours I just caught up on reading. You're right, this does give us (the readers) some previously untapped insight into you, the way you think, the way you are. I'm glad I've started reading.
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