A short story told to me during a thunderstorm by a Raven |
Perhaps, A Dream I open my eyes. It is dark. I hear only silence. The birds outside my window are gone. They have taken flight, searching for the dawn that has been stolen. Stolen. A thief in the middle of the night. I set out on a journey, to join the birds in their search. A private investigation, to catch the thief. Groping in the darkness, I wander, seeking him. I do not know the path. I can not see my destination. Where could he be hiding? If I stop now I will never find the light. How long has it been since I have seen even my own hands? I am tired. I want to stop, I want to quit, but I can not find shelter. I am blind. Time is running short. I must keep searching for the way out of this darkness. I must not stop. The blackness overwhelms me at times. I close my eyes and listen for the sound of my own breath. I hear nothing. Raindrops deafen my thoughts. I open my eyes. I can see them falling in the darkness, glimmering as they collide with the molecules in the air. A dark shimmer, which dampens my path, illuminates my way. I must keep moving. I must flee this storm Puddles swallow up my feet. As I run, I fall, drowning in the night. Where is the light? Where have I gone? A thief, they say, came in the middle of the night and stole the light from the sky. I search, desperately, but I can not catch him. I can not see the light. Everything is gone. Perhaps, he stole the world out from under me while it was dark. I do not know. Perhaps, I lied. The thief, perhaps, was me. |