On the road I tried to see into the dark distance. A woman was walking on a path into a church. Time was pressing but I found the image of her walking away into the darkness pressed down on me more. How could I explain to myself the power that had halted my journey? I found that I had to watch, & not only to watch but to follow.
Of course that was a dream. I could never find her in the following because I would be awake & then already forgetting the image.
I had begun a journey to my father’s country house because I had never been there. He moved there when I was already an adult when my mother died. He had enough with the place & had decided to move away from people. He’s an old man with white stubble & weathered lines, just how I think old men should look. Tough & resilient. I don’t know what he does now. He’s on his own so I don’t know how he occupies time. If he was a book reader I’d imagine him reading books all day. He’d read by the fire when it was cold & in the garden when it’s hot. It’s strange how easily I could imagine him reading. I can’t imagine him not being active yet I can’t think what he could be doing.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him. He lives in the middle of the countryside where it requires a bit of walking before arriving, but it shouldn’t be hard to find. After getting off the train I try to orientate myself into the direction of the countryside. I have a small luggage-case with me, which is weighty but of no hindrance to travel with. I’m not much of a traveler but I’ve always used this case & it’s never given me any trouble. I’m even a little fond of it, you could say.
I walk on a long path by a road for a half hour before I have to turn in a smaller path that leads into some woods. The day is sunny for autumn with some small gathering clouds spread around but in the woods it is cool & shaded. I am finding this traveling very pleasant & my steady pace is relaxing to a degree. I almost feel ready to sleep in the lull of my walk.
Brown golden leaves quilted the woodland path & for a brief moment I wonder what may be lurking there. I had no-idea that I should have been afraid of what lay ahead. Beyond the woods was a waiting ghost of a haunted countryside. I was an unwelcoming guest in a returning place of a spectral landscape. As soon as I came out of the darkening wood a rolling mist smothered my sight & my shivering skin bubbled in fright. It was swirling in engrossing circles of fluid motion. I had walked enough to know that my orientation had been spinning. I turned around to see the woods but my security of a back tracking path had disappeared. The temperature was chillingly descended & my mind had become clearly opaque. I made a few steps in each direction, each time changing my way, each time a little more uncertain of my location while it was getting darker & darker. There were moments in my walking where I thought the grass underneath was hardening & snapping under my foot like clay. At first I thought frost but it was still too warm for ice. This made me think how early all the leaves were turning & I had started to believe that the weather of the seasons were speeding up into days. With this I should have had a hope of tomorrow’s summer replacing the present autumn but what if the clouds weren’t moving in cycles? What if the metrological wheel isn’t turning but falling into a climatically pit of winter? To be stuck in coldness is troubling with the clothes I’ve prepared myself. I kept walking in the clouds. Every now & then I think I see a leading path guiding me to my father’s house. Recurrently I hear a distant sound of bleating, whining, mooing, chirping & squeaking, but I have yet to come across a single animal. Where could they be hiding? Could they all concealed in this fog whispering to me about…what do animals plan, what do they talk about? These images stalked me like an echo as I tried to guess my way. I had no idea how much longer I would have to walk, indeed how much longer I would have to walk, indeed how much longer will it be?
Something was surely getting hard about the ground. The air too was more like an icy river. The cold was getting thicker. Now I was stumbling over the atmosphere. I kept my bag with me but even that had to go. I was finding it harder to concentrate & I could only weakly open my eyes. I had to get on, to find a way out of the crystal mist but I seemed to be in a world endlessly reflected.
Then, as I tugged & pulled at my wet clothes, two lights hovered still in the floating horizon. There were two definite lights softly lighting the dark scene. In a mad-dash of a panic I ran towards the sphere of safety thinking only of warmth & calm. I ran in my worn shoes & my beaten suit & ran with a hope of healing, I ran for the indoor & I ran for the softness. I came up to a house of white enamel. It was a house made out of bones.
I stood agazed at the ghoulish sight at the stacking of the bone structure. Small-deconstructed animal bones packed up with their heads turned to face the front staring at any arriving stranger. Agasped I didn’t move but in the silent wind of country I heard a creaking of the opening door & in the darkness of the house I made out a reptilian shape breathing a vast rattling breath & as the head of the thing lifted I saw its glistening, burning eyes where in the sheer horror I screamed.
I tried to run but its claws were too quick in its pounce for my decorative materials.
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