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Crosswinds

Two. The first like a child’s breath, and one like eternity. They roam the open grassland looking for a witness. One who listens, and can hear their tale. Billowing gradually at first, then stronger as the stranger is spotted. Drawing close they can see the dark skin of the boy at the base of the tree. Eyes closed in darkness under a wide brim of straw. They surround him and whisper. Old leather and steel. Aromas of blown out birthday candles, and dusty rooms. Each scent a story with only these two intangible spirits as witnesses. “Wake!” they hissed to the sleeping figure. “Bear our burdens and join us!” But, the youth just twitched in his sleep as if dreaming of an uncomfortable conversation and lay dormant. Gathering strength the two winds tore leaves from the tree. The boy’s sombrero flapped up in the breeze, but his eyes stayed shut. Whirling in desparation, the bearers of pharonic sands sighed in resignation. Alas! But the boy was listening. His mind lost in itself still absorbed the vibrations of membranes beating with the airy speech. The sleeper! An endless depository! Of course! We can talk to him for hours without interruption. And so they began. Recipes of scents and noises of hollow shells soaked into the boy. “We have drawn pirates across seven seas!” they cried. “We have carried the kites of a thousand summers across the skies.” And as they talked, the sky grew a deep grey. Unaware, the breeze continued absorbed in its own telling. One then the other. Alternating, they spun around each other. Now, almost shouting, you could hear the whine of a cracked window during March. The knowledge poured from the sky and became an unstoppable torrent. A white crested wash of long gone soldiers and their last breaths. Finally, the boy opened his eyes and glanced around wildly. The whites of his eyes displayed fully in amazement at the whirlwind around him. At once, he got to his feet and began to run. Grass flew by in circles and the boy pushed faster across the open prarie. Faster and faster he flew, past dead trees and stones. Past houses. Furiously fast now, the boy tried to feel the earth below his feet. Slowly he began rising in his stride. He felt his feet leave the ground, and as he looked down, the houses shrank to tiny blocks. He no longer felt his hands or feet, but then, he no longer cared. Pushing, he moved smooth and light. His voice became a whisper. His body clear and cold. The boy and his problems soared towards the sun.

2 thoughts on “Crosswinds

  1. flaniapolkile

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