Desert Ash
May 2021
A figure on a grey horse emerges from behind the tree, located in the centre of a dry clearing completely surrounded by ash coated shrubbery and milky coloured webs. The rider’s face is obscured by a large rimmed, unusually pristine white, panama hat. Dead straight grey hair waterfalls from underneath the hat landing at their hollowed collar bones. The decrepit landscape, a sign of the current times when wants and needs going unmet, matches their body which has been left androgynous in hunger. Their clothing is tattered and burnt around the appendages. The dress shirt buttoned to the second last hole; its collar linked with a bolo tie housing a polished agate oval. The agate is an earthy red with what appears to be a moving black scarab upon first glance, before reason kicks in.
The rider dismounts gracefully, throwing a leg over and landing in a swift movement with a dust cloud around each boot. The horse whins softly, a gloved hand brushes against its muzzle before unpacking a roll and small knapsack from the saddle pack. They walk to the tree, their wide leg pants swaying on each step. They kneel in front of the Desert Ash, under its fluffy cloud of yellow- green leaves.
The rider unfurls the tan suede leather roll on the dusty red soil, the dirt kicks up as if sighing as the wrap hits the ground. There is a little rustle of pieces inside, the contents are loose, untethered and free to move within its soft confinement, but lovingly wrapped as to not fall out. As it opens the pieces roll around, moving to the shade of the wrap, as if trying to escape the direct sunlight that is glaring down. But the pieces become visible and open to the very slight evening breeze. Fully unwrapped, the small bones and bone fragments are completely exposed laying gently on the suede leather despite the rough unroll. The bones fragments contain some sections of ribs, metacarpals and phalanges, a few skull fractures. Small, but too big to be an animal. The figure straightens up a few fragments with a delicate touch from their soft deer skin gloves. They take out a blood speckled gauze package from the pouch at the end of the roll. Unwrapped it reveals a thumb-size ornate bronze pin, top heavy with a baroque twisting embellishment.
They rip off their left glove with their stained and discoloured teeth revealing bony dry hand and in a whisk of the pin, pricks their index finger. Blood pools from the tiny incision, as it meets the air the blood bubble turns blue and trails down dripping onto an aligned mandible fragment. As it lands the blood disperses through the air, spiralling and expanding. The bones jiggle. The wispy blue blood mingles with the air and bones forming a partial sphere of a smoke like consistency.
Sunlight pierces through the leaves of the ash branches, through the glossy spiders’ webs, dancing with the blue. It begins to lower in the sky, a honey yellow light brightens the greying and dulled red soil of the land around them, that extends as far as the eye can see. The rider gives an apprehensive chuckle. In a hushed tone they ask, “did you miss me?” The blue sphere glides closer to them. They nod.
“I know, I know. I didn’t mean for it to take a week, but I did it.”
They sigh, “I’m sorry. Trust me, I didn’t want to be away from you for that long either. But I did find it.”
They take a blackened teddy bear out of the knapsack, the ears burnt off and an eye dangles by a loose thread threatening its escape. The blue brightens, starting to glow an iridescent cyan. It giggles. The glow makes the shadows sink into a purple hue. An eery contrast against the grey leave less bushes seen in the close distance. The rider’s cold gaunt face flushes half a shade pinker and they nod.
“I found it under the table at the old farm house, right where you said it be.” They say with a sharp twang over the soft consonants. The blue glow pulsates and flows towards the dilapidated toy the rider is holding out towards it. Their eyes begin to swell slightly and redden.
The swirls of blue converge in the silhouette of a young girl with two shoulder length braids in a smock. She appears as only an outline, displaying the impression of her cherubic cheeks and soft innocent eyes. She smiles a toothless grin and squishes her spectral face into the physical bear that floats above the ground in her hands. Her eyes reflect a white light that suddenly appears, coming from the split in the branches forming a U. The rider’s eyes jump from the child to the white light in a flicker, their lower lip curls suppressing a frown. The light looks cold, but somehow warm and inviting. The rider attempts to imitate a smile.
Their lips purse and the words “go” escapes in a whisper, the words brush the rim of the panama hat covering the rider’s eyes before reaching the child who looks at them with what appears to be a furrowed brow. She reaches her tiny fingers to the un-gloved hand of the rider, but the rider flinches.
“I’ll be fine. You’ve got to go.” they said through a bitten lip, “don’t let me get in the way, sweetie.”
The child nods. In only moments after touching the white light the blue spirit fades into the light. Both the light and the spirit disappear, leaving the sliver of honey yellow peaking over the horizon the only illumination in miles of the cold barren landscape. The rider’s body is masked in shadows, they wear the darkness as a large overcoat. However, their tough leathery face is visible in the sunset light. A dry, stingy tear falls from the rider’s bloodshot eyes. The sun disappears into the blackness.
(photo: an old letter with a feather, some small bones and a blood splatter. the letter has loose calagraphic writing on it that reads ‘Don’t worry she’ll be looked after where she’s going. I’ll be back in town later this month we should catch up, I have things to show you. New things I think you’ll be intersted in. Meet you…(obscured by feather) night time, under the … see you soon my lovely, R”.)
