There are a coupe of things you should know before you read it though.
1. I tend to miss words now and then (maybe quite often actually), though this was proofread so that should help a bit.
2.It is about 7000 words long (I will try to spoiler it but this is the first time I've tried to spoiler something).
3. Looking back on it now there is one part I don't think fits very well. I won't say what part because that could spoil the story. But if you think you've found it you can comment on it.
4.Comment and critique anything (i know you want specifics, sorry) or just read it for your enjoyment, if you enjoy it that is.
Oh yeah one more thing, I suck at paragraphs.
So here goes I will make my first attempt at spoilering
+ Show Spoiler +
Chapter 1
Nothing. Darkness. Light. Grey above. Clouds? Clouds. A distant something I feel somewhere far off. It is not good. Pain. Why? How? Getting fuzzy, and dark, again, quickly…
I awake, I think I was awake not to long ago before this, I don’t remember very well, but if I was I did not have the vigour in my bones which I do now. My eyes are open and there is nothing pulling at them to close. Up above and down below, the clouds, the pain—both remain. I can see the clouds, and clouds are in the sky, so I must be lying on my back since I am neither standing or sitting. Something appears before my eyes, stops there when I see it; a strange creature with many limbs. Ah, it is my hand, my left hand. And here is my right before my eyes now as well. My hands, well what about my arms, and my legs and my feet, and my head? My eyes must be fine because I can see my hands, but can I move my head, should I try? I try, and my head moves. I move my head so that my chin approaches my chest, nearly resting upon it. I can see my chest, my stomach, my legs and my feet. Upon my chest is a piece of light blue and grey cloth, it goes down slightly past my waist. It also covers my arms to the wrists. A shirt, that’s what it is. And upon my legs is another cloth of brown which goes down to my ankles, pants. My feet are bare. There are a few tears on my shirt and pants. The pain, in my … back, it is still there but not that bad, only a discomfort really. I move to try get away from the pain by rolling onto my side. Now the pain is gone from my back and in my side instead. I look down at the ground where I lie; it is solid rock though made of tiny mountains that strain to touch the sky. This ground is very jagged, perhaps my back does bleed. I feel with my hands and know that all is well.
Now I realize in my effort to escape the pain I have moved my full body. My neck is not broken and neither is my back. I shall stand. I try with the help of my arms and hands, but the effort makes me dizzy and sends strange lights across my eyes. So I sit. And wait. My vision clears and then my head unmasking a slight throb in my mind, which I now notice, my head does feel.
If I can stand now, perhaps walking will do me some good. On my feet I now see I am on a mound of rock. All around are mountains. To my right some ways from the mound of rock is a forest which disappears behind a mountain. I turn to look in the direction which my feet had been facing as I lay. The forest now lies to my right.
Up above the clouds have taken on a bulbous look. They are fit to burst, I can smell it. It hangs in the air.
I begin to make my way down the rock to the forest. Hopefully the foliage of the trees will be enough to keep me dry. I feel the first light drop upon my shoulder; several others follow in quick succession. I pick up my pace and make haste.
I scramble off the rock and onto the soft grassy ground and head down a slight incline towards the forest at a light run. The rain is falling more quickly now and more heavily. When I make it to the trees I will be quite wet. I am. I stumble into the cover of the trees and after a few steps the rain is nearly gone. The branches of these trees are many and tangled thickly above. The ground quickly becomes much drier as I push forwards, though behind me it is being swallowed by flowing rivers. It is very dark in this wood barely any light can slip through the intertwined branches above. But it is dry, for now. I should find some higher ground to make a fire. I could always sleep in a tree, but then of course I could not have a fire.
My course is simply deeper into the forest, in hopes that the ground will begin to rise. I do not bother to pick up any fallen wood as there are ample amounts all around. So if I find a suitable spot some dry wood will not be far. For a while the ground in the forest has been simply dirt mixed with the droppings that forests leave.
I think night has now fallen, though perhaps the foliage has simply grown even thicker. But the air is not as warm now. It is a cold forest where the sun does not shine. Thoughts of fire warm my mind but my body can only be satisfied by its true light. I will keep walking for a bit to try and find a clearing in which to make a fire.
As I step around a great tree I enter a small clearing, suitable for a fire. Overhead the branches of trees encroach upon the open sky. It is just as dark as everywhere else. I pick up a few fallen branches and a bunch of little twigs and set them down in the center of the clearing. Taking two small branches in my hands I begin to rub them back and forth against each other. I had forgotten until now how long this takes. And I am getting tired, more tired as it goes. The longer it takes the slower it goes and the longer each blink takes.
Chapter 2
My legs spasm, my heart nearly breaks free of my ribs and my eyes rip open sending pieces of sleep flying. I must have fallen asleep, but why did I awaken in such a fashion? What caused it? Last time I woke up, the last two times I woke were very peaceful. Anyways awake now sitting down, my back against a tree. Two pieces of wood lie, one on each side of me, near my hands. I must have fallen asleep while trying to make a fire. How long did I sleep? I look up at the canopy of branches overhead, the forest is slightly brighter now, I think. Perhaps day has come, which would mean I slept for a good while, if it truly was night when I started to make a fire. I feel unrest in my gut. I must eat.
I rise to my feet and stretch. My shoulders crack, so does my back. I remember when I sat down my back was to the direction to which I was travelling. I am hungry and I don’t see any food around, might as well keep going in the direction which I was walking before I stopped to try and make a fire. I set off winding my way a long paths through the trees and forging my own through the underbrush when necessary. It is still as dark as ever and I must go slowly to make sure my eyes are not skewered by low branches. The ground begins to rise slightly. Eventually it starts to grow rockier as well. Slowly the trees thin and the way becomes better lit. I speed up my gait now that I can see better.
I break free of the forest. I am on a rocky cliff flanked on either side by mountains, overhead grey clouds still hold sway over the sky. On the mountain to my left I spot what may be a rocky path curving its way around the mountain. Below the cliff is wide a valley in which rests a forest. Some of the trees are so tall they almost reach the cliff where I stand. In the distance there are more mountains who are being swarmed by storm clouds. I take the path to my left which clings to the mountain. The ground is covered in a thin soft, green moss. The moist feeling of the moss is nice on my feet. The path is fairly wide, I think four of me could walk abreast and we would not have to touch shoulders. As I walk I see the occasional island of bedrock surrounded by the moss. The side of the mountain is to my left. In it are many cracks. The higher I look the less there are, but it could just be that my eyes cannot see what is there that far away.
I watch the clouds roll and change. They are very strange. And they are getting hard to see now, night is coming. Up ahead there is a very wide spot in the path, though it is not very long. Here in the side of the mountain is a small horizontal depression, just enough to shelter me from the rain if I curl up tightly. There is no wood here to make a fire with. Hopefully it will not grow too cold when dusk turns to night. I lie down on the moss and watch the clouds slowly clear above as the light flees the night.
Slowly I open my eyes. I guess I fell asleep. My gaze returns to the sky up above there are no clouds which I can see. But there are many tiny, bright, white lights. The sky itself is black though very lightly tinted purple. What are these lights? They are so strange and so mesmerizing. What is bright, tiny, and reside in the sky? Stars. That’s what they are. Then my gaze drifts to the right and there hanging in the air is what appears to be an enormous star. It is so large that I can easily see it is in the shape of a great disk. I realize now, as I raise my hand and see its shadow, that this great disk casts light. It is big, hangs in the sky at night and casts light. The moon. And the sun. The sun which is present during the day. But this is the moon. Almost pure white and casting purple light. I blink, but only half way, I do not think I will complete the other half for a long while.
Chapter 3
I am in a great cave. Its walls are blue and white mixed into one. I try to stand. I slip and fall. This is a cave of ice. But a river flows somewhere near, I hear it. Towards the sound I walk, winding my way through a maze of inverted icicles. I reach the river. It is not very wide, but wide enough that I would not want to swim when it must the exceptionally cold. I follow it down stream.
There are also icicles, properly verted, hanging from the ceiling. Some connect with the ones sprouting from the ground. Still I follow the flowing water.
The river bends and ahead I see the sea. The great cave ends here and the ice stops at the mouth. I step out onto the sand of the short delta. To my right the land swells out in a great sandy cliff. I stare up at the sky. Dusk is approaching, I think. Then my view falls out upon the sea. Out in the water is a large island. Too far to swim to. It would probably take a whole day of swimming, but I do not think I could last even an hour in those waves. On the island there is a mountain, a towering peak of grey.
I look to my left and once again the land swells out in cliff, though the swell is less than that of the one to my right. I look back the way I came, it is all cliff, and very high. I doubt I could find a way up.
My gaze wanders back to the island and then up to the sky where the moon rests in its court attended by the stars. I break my gaze away from the sky and it seems as if I have been staring at the sky for ages. I look down at the ground by my feet, but behold my feet are not there. Where have they gone? I look all around. The rest of me is gone as well. What has happened?
Then I notice the moon is now much larger. I look around and down. Far below is the beach and the island and the top of the cave; a coastal plain which flows into foothills and rises up into mountains. I am floating here far above my body nowhere I can see. I don’t what to do or if I should even do anything. I begin to descend, picking up speed quickly. I am falling, towards the sea. There is nothing I can do I shall strike the water and be dashed to pieces. But I have no body how can I strike the water? I don’t even know what I am. But it is close. It is here. The water barely moves as I enter it, and I can barely feel it. There is no light not even that of the moon or stars. And then in the distance a tiny purple and pink stream appears, very tiny flowing through the darkness. I try and swim towards it, and the water moves so that it barely touches me leaving no moisture upon my skin. Still I make progress towards the light. I get closer and closer and then it writhes spasmodically and splits into more strands inside of which I can see yet more, smaller strands. They move towards and encircle me and begin flow all around in strange jerking movements which really are not very flowy. The water is gone now, or at least in so far as I can tell it is. I reach out to touch one of the strands but when I am about to touch it, it is suddenly very far away and very small looking. I try to touch another one and the same thing happens. I look back to where the first one I tried to touch was when it was far away, it is no longer there. Probably it is circling me now in its strange jerky fashion.
Chapter 4
My eyes open peacefully. But why? I was just awake in that place of strange lights. I walked from the cave to the sea and then… flew to the moon? Can I fly? Quickly I stand and try to fly as I did to the moon. Nothing happens. Because I do not know how to fly, I guess, or even if I can. This is strange I thought I had been sleeping, that is as it seems, but apparently I was not. Apparently I was in some other place where I could fly. How did I get there? I think, very hard, I don’t know. Can I get there again? If I don’t know how I got there how would I know how to get there again? I wouldn’t, I don’t. Then my stomach gives me a jab, bringing me back to where I am now; on the rocky path on the side of the mountain with a forest below. Most likely there will be better prospects of food in the forest below but for the time being I see no way down. I continue walking in the direction which I had been walking before I lay down, to sleep, ha, as if I got any sleep. Though I do feel very well rested and awake. Overhead the clouds are a myriad of different colours, some deep blue, others white, and in between rocky grey. Behind them is the bright blue of the sky. I cannot see the sun but I see its rays casting shadows on some of the clouds.
I bring my eyes back to the ground upon which I tread and see ahead of me many large rocks fallen across the path and down into the forest. I climb up on the mound on the path, it continues on the other side. But the rocks also provide a natural way for me to get down to the woods, I think. Yes, I believe I could negotiate those fallen stones down to the forest floor. I begin my descent, slowly, and carefully. Some of the rocks are loose.
I am lowering myself down to a rather large flat rock. Suddenly one of my handholds, the right one, breaks apart and I am hanging by one arm, then my grip breaks as well and I fall. I manage to cushion my fall a bit with a partial roll without falling off the edge of the large flat rock. My left arm is bleeding, from a small scrape near my elbow, and so is my left knee. Other than that I believe I am fine. I stand and look down to the forest; it is only a few more rocks to the ground. Now I move very slowly and carefully even though there is no spot so dangerous as the one which caused me to fall.
I hop off the last rock and onto the forest floor. Here the trees are much smaller than the ones in the forest in which I slept and much more widely spaced. It is easily possible to see the sky whenever I should wish to do so. The trees are also very black. I wander away from the cliff and deeper into the trees. The ground here is strange almost like rock, but not quite. It seems as if each step takes slightly more work than it did when I was on the path above. Where trees sprout from the ground it encroaches right up to the edge of their trunks hiding all roots. Though some I see have broken through here and there.
Unless I can break a branch from a tree I doubt I will be able to have a fire, for there are almost no fallen bits of wood at all. I will not try yet when the time comes there will be trees a plenty around to choose from. My foot comes down upon a root which protrudes, as I push off it cracks, crushed under my weight. I look back at it; it is not broken all the way through, though more than halfway. The wood inside is a dull light-brown and yellow colour. I walk up to one of the trees and kick with the bottom of my foot. It leaves an indentation of cracked bark about the size of my foot. The wood of these trees is very soft. In the forest before the cliff the trees were much tougher than this, I stepped on many roots and nothing of this sort ever happened. If the trees are so weak I should think that there would be many more fallen branches on the ground. A strong wind could tear limbs from these trees quite easily I would imagine. I look back in the direction in which I have come, there are little markings on the ground, they lead tight up to where I now stand. I squat down and look at the closest one. The next closest one looks the same except it is the opposite in some ways. I shuffle over in my squat to get a different angle. There, where I was squatting are two very similar marks. I move again and see the same marks. These are simply the marks of my feet the, the ground here is very soft—everything is so far. I stand up, turn and start walking again in the direction I was going before. Eventually the ground starts to rise, slowly. Up ahead I see a slightly more open area than is normal here with a large round protrusion of rock rising from the ground. I enter this clearing, though the forest to be filled with slightly smaller clearings. I approach the stone, it is not much taller than me, but it is much wider, probably almost twice as wide as the length of my body if I lay down. This would be a good spot to rest and build a fire, it is just starting to get dark anyways and the rock might be able to give me a little bit of cover in case it rains. I walk over to a tree and grab a branch with both hands and pull down wards there is a mighty crack, but the branch is still attached to the tree. I pull again and the branch comes free. It falls to the ground. I pick it up. It is heavy, but not so heavy that I cannot carry it. I bring it back to the rock, set it down and begin pulling the smaller branches off it. I select two good sized ones and begin rubbing them together; hopefully I will not fall asleep this time.
After a short while my gut twists again causing me pain; reminding that it is hungry. I have not eaten for three days! But as far as I know I have not seen anything to eat either. Probably I am already weak from not eating, and will only continue to grow more so. Perhaps the reason that branch was so heavy is because I have grown weak without food, or drink! I have not had anything to drink in three days either, and I do not think it has crossed my mind until now. Perhaps I had forgotten what drinking was and why it is important to drink…water. I must find water and some food. After get a fire going good I will go out and look for both.
My arms are very tired now, but the wood is smoking in my hands. There are no leaves on the trees or grass on the ground to help me start the fire. The wood is hot enough now I think. I set both pieces on the ground the one on top of the other. Then I begin stripping pieces away from one of the smallest branches. Now I have several small, thin pieces of wood. I rub the smoking pieces of wood together again briefly. Then lay them back down and place three thin strips of wood in between them. Slowly they begin to smoke as well, then one lights; a tiny flame. I add two more pieces thin pieces. All of the original ones are on fire now, and the fourth and fifth pieces light quickly. The two pieces I rubbed together to start the fire have caught now as well. I add another piece about the same size as those two, and then another one which is slightly larger. The fire is going quite well now. I break the largest branch in two and add one half to the fire. Once it catches I will go to look for food and drink. It is caught. That was fast! I guess the fire is pretty hot, and I am pretty hungry.
I stand up, stretch and look around. It is much darker now, though the sky, now cloudless as far as I can see, still has some colour, but some stars are slowly appearing. The trees still barely cast shadows, though the places where there are no shadows are like islands slowly being enveloped be the sea. I turn around to face the rock, look to my left and then to my right, I will go right. In this direction the ground slopes down as I leave the rock but becomes much more gradual maybe even flat. Unless I could eat the trees I do not see much of value in nourishing me. I turn my path slightly to the right, I see something out of the corner of my left eye; a flicker of darkness, which is strange in a place and time as dark as this. I turn back to the direction in which I saw the flicker and hasten my pace. I keep my eyes and my ears open wide, but it is very dark, shadows lie nearly every where now, and there is nothing to hear, or at least nothing that I have heard. I hear something. Something crashes down upon me. It is stuck to me I try to roll to get it off but it doesn’t work. I grab at it and I try to pull it off. Manage to pull off one piece which feels as though it is shaped like a tree branch but it just latches right back on. I strike at it flailing. As I bring my hand back over my head to strike down my fist connects with something and the grip on me slackens. I quickly shrug the thing off and roll away.
I look back at the thing which was on me. It appears to be a creature perhaps similar to me; it has two arms, two legs and what I think is a head. However, its looks like, and now that I think of it felt like, black stone or very tough bark, actually more a mixture of the two. It is also much shorter than me. The thing gets to its feet and instantly runs at me. I take a few steps back and then grab its left arm with both hands and swing it against a tree to my right. It smashes into the tree and as it starts to fall, with me still holding its arm, I help its descent with my left foot, smashing it into the ground. I hear a crack which must be its skin breaking. I deliver another blow with my left foot, this time to its head, then two more in quick succession, once again to its head. Even in the nearly completely faded light I can see that its head has been caved in from my blows. It is dead. It could be food. I doubt I could eat its skin without injuring myself, but what is inside might be edible. I pick it up in both arms and start back towards my fire; at least I think this is the right direction. I start to walk I realize, my left foot hurts, from stomping on the thing I would imagine. The pain is not that bad and I keep walking. I look back at where I have stepped, in the dark it is hard to tell but I believe I am leaving some blood behind with each step. Oh well, nothing I can do about it right now.
Looking back in the direction I am walking I see the flicker of my fire in the distance. The fire grows brighter and the ground begins to rise slowly, I am close. There! I can see the wood itself burning in the fire. I reach the fire and lay down my burden beside it. The fire has grown much lower. I add the other half of the biggest branch, it catches quickly. I look at the thing. It is near pitch black even in the light of the fire. I feel its skin, it is like a mixture between stone and bark (as I thought before), and has many ridges running all over it, a good number of which are sharp. That is how my foot got cut.
Its head has no eyes, mouth or ears that I can see, but it does (or did since they are somewhat destroyed in the middle now), have several very wide, vertical, dull ridges on the front. Where its body is caved in I grab an edge of the hole and pull a piece comes free, I do this again and again and again and again. There is a clear liquid on my hands now. I lick one of my fingers tentatively; the liquid tastes sweet, it is good. I reach a hand into the hole, pull my hand out and lick it all over. Very good, but I must see if there is a part of this I can eat as well as drink. I pick up one of the few remaining branches and hit the place where the things left leg connects to its torso. The skin cracks. I hit it three more times, the wood as a club is now useless, I throw it on the fire, but in its short club life it made good progress. I seize the limb and give it a good twist it comes off. I poke my hand inside there is something solid in there perhaps edible, I will cook it. I take a long thin branch and stick it inside the leg, then holding onto the branch I place the leg on the fire, but not completely, this way the branch will hopefully not light. I place the thing on my lap now, enlarge the whole in its torso a bit and then begin drinking by plunging my hands in and then licking them.
My thirst is quenched for now. I take the leg off the fire. I stick my hand inside and grab onto something solid. I pull it out. It is a dull yellow coloured hunk of matter small enough for me to hold in one hand. There are long, thin, shallow dips in it which run its length. I try to pull a piece away. It comes away easily in a nice strip. I put it in my mouth, it is little too tough to chew easily, but I am very hungry. I barely chew, swallowing it I almost choke. It has no taste. I take another piece and place it in my mouth chewing it more slowly, its taste is similar to that of the liquid, though not as sweet. I must not have noticed the taste the first time because it barely touched my mouth.
I take more pieces until the whole thing is devoured. I reach inside the leg and pull out another piece. I take another strip and begin chewing, but I do not feel that hungry anymore. I finish the piece anyways. I would have thought that I would have been more hungry, but I guess not.
I am tired. I put the thing on the other side of the fire; it is too sharp for me to rest my head upon. I add the rest of the wood to the fire. There does not appear to be any comfortable nooks or ledges in the rock to rest my head upon. Oh well, I curl up with my back against it and rest my head on the ground. I feel a throbbing in the bottom of my foot. It is my wound I received when stomping in that thing. I should probably look at it, but I think I’ll do that tomorrow. Anyways I’ve got a bunch of other little cuts as well, I can check them all at once. For now I am tired, I will sleep.
Chapter 5
My eyes open slowly. I sit up, my neck hurts. I must have slept funny. The fire is only a few coals now, though they still have some heat. I add the last of the tiny twig branches. I will cook the rest of the thing, eat as much as I can and then carry the rest with me. I look down at my shirt; it has a few more holes than before I think. Around some of the holes the shirt is darker, my blood. My pants seem okay, I don’t think I have any cuts on my legs. I take off my shirt and inspect my body. I have some cuts on my chest and stomach. The outside part of my upper right arm has so many cuts on it that it is almost one bug cut. Fortunately the blood from all my cuts has hardened. I don’t see anything stuck in the dry blood either. I think there is nothing I can do… even if I knew what to do if there was something wrong. I put my shirt back on and add all the rest of what little wood is left to the fire, except for the two biggest pieces, though they are not very big, that I will use to break apart the thing.
I take off the other one of its lower limbs without breaking the stick I used. I add the second leg and what remains of the first to the fire. I take off the right arm and the stick breaks. I throw its remains on the fire as well as the arm. The left arm comes off; the second has not yet broken. I put the left arm on the fire and take off both of the legs. My stick breaks while I am trying to separate the head from the torso. I use my hands and tear it off. I suffer a few more cuts. Over both of the spots were I broke the skin of this thing, one on the head and one on the torso, a sort of soft bark-like structure has formed. It is the same colour as the liquid I drank last night. Perhaps this thing bleeds just like me, and what I drank was its blood. I throw the head and torso on the fire and take the arms off. I feel hungry. I pick up the partially eaten leg and reach inside, I guess it is fully eaten; there is nothing left which I can find. I take the other leg, I reach inside of it, I pull out a piece, I eat it. It is very good. I take another piece from the leg, much larger than the first one. It satisfies my hunger.
I take the head and torso off the fire. I should start moving; I don’t want to sit here all day. But the head and torso are hot and I would like to carry them, I will wait. Hmm… why do I walk? Why do I keep moving? I mean, perhaps there are more of those things around, I could live off them if there are. And there is ample wood for fires. No, I do not want to stay here, maybe, probably, I don’t know why that is. I touch my left hand to the torso; it is cool enough to carry now. I shift into a crouch and hold the torso against my chest with one arm so that its widest sides face up and down. In my hand I take an arm, I place it on the torso, I take the other too and the head upon the arms. I stand. I turn. And walk around the rock. I keep walking in the direction in which I was before I sat down to rest last night. The ground is rising slowly. The trees are thinning. I come out of the last of them. In front of me is a short steep slope of the same strange, grey, soft, rock as the ground. I hold the pieces of the thing to my chest with my right hand and begin my ascent. There are few hand holds but I use my left arm to help myself where I can. I grasp the lip of the small ridge with my left hand and pull the rest of myself over. I sort of roll onto my feet and stand; now holding my food with both hands. All I can see are sort partial arcs of stone springing from the ground like miniature mountains. They very in size, some are slightly shorter than me. Though many much are taller, at least twice as tall as me. A few I can make out appear to be much larger than the others, though nowhere near as tall as mountains. All of them are made of a stone much harder than that of the forest I have just left. There colour is a mixture of white and very light grey, or perhaps it just is very light grey. At their bases many connect leaving no space to walk among them. Though ahead of me is a path through them which twists out of my vision. I hope it keeps going. I believe it keeps going. Forward I walk down the path. It does keep going. It winds again, again, again. I fear that on one of these winds it may end.
Above the clouds cover the sky. They are very dark, almost completely black. But I can still make out different layers and forms because of the occasional barely grey edge. I look back the way I came and already the black clouds have extended their reach so that they are all that I can see in the sky. The pillar-arcs also block my view of the soft forest where I ate. I turn back and start walking again along this winding way.
The more I walk the more it winds, this is the nature of the way. I am growing weary; I think I have been walking for a long time. It must be approaching dusk, but I cannot tell because the clouds do not change. But I am not tired, nor is it cold, though it is by no means warm. I doubt I will find anything to make a fire with here and the ground looks just as uncomfortable in all places. I will keep walking till I am dragged down by the weight of my eyelids.
I turn a wind and there is a large piece of rock lying in my path which comes almost to my chin. Above it is what appears to be a pillar-arc with its end missing and the rock on the ground looks as though it fits the part. I look on either side of the fallen piece—there is no way around either side unless I should climb among the arc-pillars. I place the torso of the thing, with the arms and on top, upon the fallen pillar-arc. They fall off the other side and make some muffled clicking sounds as they strike the ground. I grasp the top with my hands and full length of arm and, with the help of my feet pushing off the ground and the pillar-arc, pull myself up on top. Lying on my chest and stomach now I turn my body and slide off the other side of the rock. The rock rubs my chest; it is uncomfortable but not painful. I land on my feet. My pants and shirt are covered in the rock dust which is all around, here. I turn to look down the path once again. The legs and torso of the thing are there lying several steps away. Of the head I see no sign. I pick up the torso and legs and place them in a pile in the center of the path. I look at the edges of the path, where the pillar-arcs sprout, for the head. I cannot see it. Perhaps it bounced up and into the place where the dust falls from. I will not look for it there though it would be far too difficult and potentially treacherous and probably futile in the end.
I pick the torso and place the legs on top. I start walking along the path again in the direction which I was going before. The path winds and I see it forks in three directions. Which way should I go? I do not know. My mind has grown weary and my body says it is time to rest. I look around for a good spot to lie down, none seem any better than the others. I take the legs off the torso and lay them down in the middle of the fork. I lay the torso down too. I sit down, pick up one of the legs, break the seal which has formed on the torn end. I reach inside and pull out a lump of food. I eat quickly, for as I now realize I am hungry. I take another piece and eat it. I reach inside again for more, but there is no more. I will rest now.
I take shirt off and fold it once. I place on the torso of the thing. It is now a comfortable place to rest my head. I lie down with my head on my shirt which is on the torso. Lying on my back I look up at the sky, the clouds. They are still black, but their barely grey edges let me see them roiling. The position of individual clouds in the sky, where it is possible to discern them from the great mass blotting out any celestial beings, does not seem to change; only their form does. The edges of the clouds start to gain new colours, and they move randomly and wildly. I have not seen this happen in all my time here, perhaps it is the sunset. I have seen the clouds take on different colours from the sun before, I have not seen these black clouds do so before now. I shift my body slightly to get more comfortable, but I do not see any pillar-arcs, when, I believe, I rightly should. The clouds are all around wherever I look. And I cannot see my body. This very strange, but this has happened before, though them the only I could not see as my body. I hear a deep booming noise. My eyes open at this. My eyes. My eyes were simply closed, and those were not the clouds, but the ever present darkness when it is dark and eyes are closed, and the light which roams across them. I feel sleepy and that’s why my eyes closed. And without me even noticing. But what was that booming noise? And where did it come from. I see a twisted string of light appears in the sky, lasting just long enough so that I can see it before it disappears. Then the booming sound rumbles across the sky again. There, I see another string which splits. The noise again. What is it? They seem to come consistently, so far, one after the other; the light then the noise. Perhaps the light causes the noise? I think it does, or something similar to that is the case. I think it is thunder… and lightning, but in the reverse order. The light is lightning and the sound is thunder. But I have had enough of thinking for now. Darkness is tugging at the edges of my eye. I will let it pull me away into slumber.
Nothing. Darkness. Light. Grey above. Clouds? Clouds. A distant something I feel somewhere far off. It is not good. Pain. Why? How? Getting fuzzy, and dark, again, quickly…
I awake, I think I was awake not to long ago before this, I don’t remember very well, but if I was I did not have the vigour in my bones which I do now. My eyes are open and there is nothing pulling at them to close. Up above and down below, the clouds, the pain—both remain. I can see the clouds, and clouds are in the sky, so I must be lying on my back since I am neither standing or sitting. Something appears before my eyes, stops there when I see it; a strange creature with many limbs. Ah, it is my hand, my left hand. And here is my right before my eyes now as well. My hands, well what about my arms, and my legs and my feet, and my head? My eyes must be fine because I can see my hands, but can I move my head, should I try? I try, and my head moves. I move my head so that my chin approaches my chest, nearly resting upon it. I can see my chest, my stomach, my legs and my feet. Upon my chest is a piece of light blue and grey cloth, it goes down slightly past my waist. It also covers my arms to the wrists. A shirt, that’s what it is. And upon my legs is another cloth of brown which goes down to my ankles, pants. My feet are bare. There are a few tears on my shirt and pants. The pain, in my … back, it is still there but not that bad, only a discomfort really. I move to try get away from the pain by rolling onto my side. Now the pain is gone from my back and in my side instead. I look down at the ground where I lie; it is solid rock though made of tiny mountains that strain to touch the sky. This ground is very jagged, perhaps my back does bleed. I feel with my hands and know that all is well.
Now I realize in my effort to escape the pain I have moved my full body. My neck is not broken and neither is my back. I shall stand. I try with the help of my arms and hands, but the effort makes me dizzy and sends strange lights across my eyes. So I sit. And wait. My vision clears and then my head unmasking a slight throb in my mind, which I now notice, my head does feel.
If I can stand now, perhaps walking will do me some good. On my feet I now see I am on a mound of rock. All around are mountains. To my right some ways from the mound of rock is a forest which disappears behind a mountain. I turn to look in the direction which my feet had been facing as I lay. The forest now lies to my right.
Up above the clouds have taken on a bulbous look. They are fit to burst, I can smell it. It hangs in the air.
I begin to make my way down the rock to the forest. Hopefully the foliage of the trees will be enough to keep me dry. I feel the first light drop upon my shoulder; several others follow in quick succession. I pick up my pace and make haste.
I scramble off the rock and onto the soft grassy ground and head down a slight incline towards the forest at a light run. The rain is falling more quickly now and more heavily. When I make it to the trees I will be quite wet. I am. I stumble into the cover of the trees and after a few steps the rain is nearly gone. The branches of these trees are many and tangled thickly above. The ground quickly becomes much drier as I push forwards, though behind me it is being swallowed by flowing rivers. It is very dark in this wood barely any light can slip through the intertwined branches above. But it is dry, for now. I should find some higher ground to make a fire. I could always sleep in a tree, but then of course I could not have a fire.
My course is simply deeper into the forest, in hopes that the ground will begin to rise. I do not bother to pick up any fallen wood as there are ample amounts all around. So if I find a suitable spot some dry wood will not be far. For a while the ground in the forest has been simply dirt mixed with the droppings that forests leave.
I think night has now fallen, though perhaps the foliage has simply grown even thicker. But the air is not as warm now. It is a cold forest where the sun does not shine. Thoughts of fire warm my mind but my body can only be satisfied by its true light. I will keep walking for a bit to try and find a clearing in which to make a fire.
As I step around a great tree I enter a small clearing, suitable for a fire. Overhead the branches of trees encroach upon the open sky. It is just as dark as everywhere else. I pick up a few fallen branches and a bunch of little twigs and set them down in the center of the clearing. Taking two small branches in my hands I begin to rub them back and forth against each other. I had forgotten until now how long this takes. And I am getting tired, more tired as it goes. The longer it takes the slower it goes and the longer each blink takes.
Chapter 2
My legs spasm, my heart nearly breaks free of my ribs and my eyes rip open sending pieces of sleep flying. I must have fallen asleep, but why did I awaken in such a fashion? What caused it? Last time I woke up, the last two times I woke were very peaceful. Anyways awake now sitting down, my back against a tree. Two pieces of wood lie, one on each side of me, near my hands. I must have fallen asleep while trying to make a fire. How long did I sleep? I look up at the canopy of branches overhead, the forest is slightly brighter now, I think. Perhaps day has come, which would mean I slept for a good while, if it truly was night when I started to make a fire. I feel unrest in my gut. I must eat.
I rise to my feet and stretch. My shoulders crack, so does my back. I remember when I sat down my back was to the direction to which I was travelling. I am hungry and I don’t see any food around, might as well keep going in the direction which I was walking before I stopped to try and make a fire. I set off winding my way a long paths through the trees and forging my own through the underbrush when necessary. It is still as dark as ever and I must go slowly to make sure my eyes are not skewered by low branches. The ground begins to rise slightly. Eventually it starts to grow rockier as well. Slowly the trees thin and the way becomes better lit. I speed up my gait now that I can see better.
I break free of the forest. I am on a rocky cliff flanked on either side by mountains, overhead grey clouds still hold sway over the sky. On the mountain to my left I spot what may be a rocky path curving its way around the mountain. Below the cliff is wide a valley in which rests a forest. Some of the trees are so tall they almost reach the cliff where I stand. In the distance there are more mountains who are being swarmed by storm clouds. I take the path to my left which clings to the mountain. The ground is covered in a thin soft, green moss. The moist feeling of the moss is nice on my feet. The path is fairly wide, I think four of me could walk abreast and we would not have to touch shoulders. As I walk I see the occasional island of bedrock surrounded by the moss. The side of the mountain is to my left. In it are many cracks. The higher I look the less there are, but it could just be that my eyes cannot see what is there that far away.
I watch the clouds roll and change. They are very strange. And they are getting hard to see now, night is coming. Up ahead there is a very wide spot in the path, though it is not very long. Here in the side of the mountain is a small horizontal depression, just enough to shelter me from the rain if I curl up tightly. There is no wood here to make a fire with. Hopefully it will not grow too cold when dusk turns to night. I lie down on the moss and watch the clouds slowly clear above as the light flees the night.
Slowly I open my eyes. I guess I fell asleep. My gaze returns to the sky up above there are no clouds which I can see. But there are many tiny, bright, white lights. The sky itself is black though very lightly tinted purple. What are these lights? They are so strange and so mesmerizing. What is bright, tiny, and reside in the sky? Stars. That’s what they are. Then my gaze drifts to the right and there hanging in the air is what appears to be an enormous star. It is so large that I can easily see it is in the shape of a great disk. I realize now, as I raise my hand and see its shadow, that this great disk casts light. It is big, hangs in the sky at night and casts light. The moon. And the sun. The sun which is present during the day. But this is the moon. Almost pure white and casting purple light. I blink, but only half way, I do not think I will complete the other half for a long while.
Chapter 3
I am in a great cave. Its walls are blue and white mixed into one. I try to stand. I slip and fall. This is a cave of ice. But a river flows somewhere near, I hear it. Towards the sound I walk, winding my way through a maze of inverted icicles. I reach the river. It is not very wide, but wide enough that I would not want to swim when it must the exceptionally cold. I follow it down stream.
There are also icicles, properly verted, hanging from the ceiling. Some connect with the ones sprouting from the ground. Still I follow the flowing water.
The river bends and ahead I see the sea. The great cave ends here and the ice stops at the mouth. I step out onto the sand of the short delta. To my right the land swells out in a great sandy cliff. I stare up at the sky. Dusk is approaching, I think. Then my view falls out upon the sea. Out in the water is a large island. Too far to swim to. It would probably take a whole day of swimming, but I do not think I could last even an hour in those waves. On the island there is a mountain, a towering peak of grey.
I look to my left and once again the land swells out in cliff, though the swell is less than that of the one to my right. I look back the way I came, it is all cliff, and very high. I doubt I could find a way up.
My gaze wanders back to the island and then up to the sky where the moon rests in its court attended by the stars. I break my gaze away from the sky and it seems as if I have been staring at the sky for ages. I look down at the ground by my feet, but behold my feet are not there. Where have they gone? I look all around. The rest of me is gone as well. What has happened?
Then I notice the moon is now much larger. I look around and down. Far below is the beach and the island and the top of the cave; a coastal plain which flows into foothills and rises up into mountains. I am floating here far above my body nowhere I can see. I don’t what to do or if I should even do anything. I begin to descend, picking up speed quickly. I am falling, towards the sea. There is nothing I can do I shall strike the water and be dashed to pieces. But I have no body how can I strike the water? I don’t even know what I am. But it is close. It is here. The water barely moves as I enter it, and I can barely feel it. There is no light not even that of the moon or stars. And then in the distance a tiny purple and pink stream appears, very tiny flowing through the darkness. I try and swim towards it, and the water moves so that it barely touches me leaving no moisture upon my skin. Still I make progress towards the light. I get closer and closer and then it writhes spasmodically and splits into more strands inside of which I can see yet more, smaller strands. They move towards and encircle me and begin flow all around in strange jerking movements which really are not very flowy. The water is gone now, or at least in so far as I can tell it is. I reach out to touch one of the strands but when I am about to touch it, it is suddenly very far away and very small looking. I try to touch another one and the same thing happens. I look back to where the first one I tried to touch was when it was far away, it is no longer there. Probably it is circling me now in its strange jerky fashion.
Chapter 4
My eyes open peacefully. But why? I was just awake in that place of strange lights. I walked from the cave to the sea and then… flew to the moon? Can I fly? Quickly I stand and try to fly as I did to the moon. Nothing happens. Because I do not know how to fly, I guess, or even if I can. This is strange I thought I had been sleeping, that is as it seems, but apparently I was not. Apparently I was in some other place where I could fly. How did I get there? I think, very hard, I don’t know. Can I get there again? If I don’t know how I got there how would I know how to get there again? I wouldn’t, I don’t. Then my stomach gives me a jab, bringing me back to where I am now; on the rocky path on the side of the mountain with a forest below. Most likely there will be better prospects of food in the forest below but for the time being I see no way down. I continue walking in the direction which I had been walking before I lay down, to sleep, ha, as if I got any sleep. Though I do feel very well rested and awake. Overhead the clouds are a myriad of different colours, some deep blue, others white, and in between rocky grey. Behind them is the bright blue of the sky. I cannot see the sun but I see its rays casting shadows on some of the clouds.
I bring my eyes back to the ground upon which I tread and see ahead of me many large rocks fallen across the path and down into the forest. I climb up on the mound on the path, it continues on the other side. But the rocks also provide a natural way for me to get down to the woods, I think. Yes, I believe I could negotiate those fallen stones down to the forest floor. I begin my descent, slowly, and carefully. Some of the rocks are loose.
I am lowering myself down to a rather large flat rock. Suddenly one of my handholds, the right one, breaks apart and I am hanging by one arm, then my grip breaks as well and I fall. I manage to cushion my fall a bit with a partial roll without falling off the edge of the large flat rock. My left arm is bleeding, from a small scrape near my elbow, and so is my left knee. Other than that I believe I am fine. I stand and look down to the forest; it is only a few more rocks to the ground. Now I move very slowly and carefully even though there is no spot so dangerous as the one which caused me to fall.
I hop off the last rock and onto the forest floor. Here the trees are much smaller than the ones in the forest in which I slept and much more widely spaced. It is easily possible to see the sky whenever I should wish to do so. The trees are also very black. I wander away from the cliff and deeper into the trees. The ground here is strange almost like rock, but not quite. It seems as if each step takes slightly more work than it did when I was on the path above. Where trees sprout from the ground it encroaches right up to the edge of their trunks hiding all roots. Though some I see have broken through here and there.
Unless I can break a branch from a tree I doubt I will be able to have a fire, for there are almost no fallen bits of wood at all. I will not try yet when the time comes there will be trees a plenty around to choose from. My foot comes down upon a root which protrudes, as I push off it cracks, crushed under my weight. I look back at it; it is not broken all the way through, though more than halfway. The wood inside is a dull light-brown and yellow colour. I walk up to one of the trees and kick with the bottom of my foot. It leaves an indentation of cracked bark about the size of my foot. The wood of these trees is very soft. In the forest before the cliff the trees were much tougher than this, I stepped on many roots and nothing of this sort ever happened. If the trees are so weak I should think that there would be many more fallen branches on the ground. A strong wind could tear limbs from these trees quite easily I would imagine. I look back in the direction in which I have come, there are little markings on the ground, they lead tight up to where I now stand. I squat down and look at the closest one. The next closest one looks the same except it is the opposite in some ways. I shuffle over in my squat to get a different angle. There, where I was squatting are two very similar marks. I move again and see the same marks. These are simply the marks of my feet the, the ground here is very soft—everything is so far. I stand up, turn and start walking again in the direction I was going before. Eventually the ground starts to rise, slowly. Up ahead I see a slightly more open area than is normal here with a large round protrusion of rock rising from the ground. I enter this clearing, though the forest to be filled with slightly smaller clearings. I approach the stone, it is not much taller than me, but it is much wider, probably almost twice as wide as the length of my body if I lay down. This would be a good spot to rest and build a fire, it is just starting to get dark anyways and the rock might be able to give me a little bit of cover in case it rains. I walk over to a tree and grab a branch with both hands and pull down wards there is a mighty crack, but the branch is still attached to the tree. I pull again and the branch comes free. It falls to the ground. I pick it up. It is heavy, but not so heavy that I cannot carry it. I bring it back to the rock, set it down and begin pulling the smaller branches off it. I select two good sized ones and begin rubbing them together; hopefully I will not fall asleep this time.
After a short while my gut twists again causing me pain; reminding that it is hungry. I have not eaten for three days! But as far as I know I have not seen anything to eat either. Probably I am already weak from not eating, and will only continue to grow more so. Perhaps the reason that branch was so heavy is because I have grown weak without food, or drink! I have not had anything to drink in three days either, and I do not think it has crossed my mind until now. Perhaps I had forgotten what drinking was and why it is important to drink…water. I must find water and some food. After get a fire going good I will go out and look for both.
My arms are very tired now, but the wood is smoking in my hands. There are no leaves on the trees or grass on the ground to help me start the fire. The wood is hot enough now I think. I set both pieces on the ground the one on top of the other. Then I begin stripping pieces away from one of the smallest branches. Now I have several small, thin pieces of wood. I rub the smoking pieces of wood together again briefly. Then lay them back down and place three thin strips of wood in between them. Slowly they begin to smoke as well, then one lights; a tiny flame. I add two more pieces thin pieces. All of the original ones are on fire now, and the fourth and fifth pieces light quickly. The two pieces I rubbed together to start the fire have caught now as well. I add another piece about the same size as those two, and then another one which is slightly larger. The fire is going quite well now. I break the largest branch in two and add one half to the fire. Once it catches I will go to look for food and drink. It is caught. That was fast! I guess the fire is pretty hot, and I am pretty hungry.
I stand up, stretch and look around. It is much darker now, though the sky, now cloudless as far as I can see, still has some colour, but some stars are slowly appearing. The trees still barely cast shadows, though the places where there are no shadows are like islands slowly being enveloped be the sea. I turn around to face the rock, look to my left and then to my right, I will go right. In this direction the ground slopes down as I leave the rock but becomes much more gradual maybe even flat. Unless I could eat the trees I do not see much of value in nourishing me. I turn my path slightly to the right, I see something out of the corner of my left eye; a flicker of darkness, which is strange in a place and time as dark as this. I turn back to the direction in which I saw the flicker and hasten my pace. I keep my eyes and my ears open wide, but it is very dark, shadows lie nearly every where now, and there is nothing to hear, or at least nothing that I have heard. I hear something. Something crashes down upon me. It is stuck to me I try to roll to get it off but it doesn’t work. I grab at it and I try to pull it off. Manage to pull off one piece which feels as though it is shaped like a tree branch but it just latches right back on. I strike at it flailing. As I bring my hand back over my head to strike down my fist connects with something and the grip on me slackens. I quickly shrug the thing off and roll away.
I look back at the thing which was on me. It appears to be a creature perhaps similar to me; it has two arms, two legs and what I think is a head. However, its looks like, and now that I think of it felt like, black stone or very tough bark, actually more a mixture of the two. It is also much shorter than me. The thing gets to its feet and instantly runs at me. I take a few steps back and then grab its left arm with both hands and swing it against a tree to my right. It smashes into the tree and as it starts to fall, with me still holding its arm, I help its descent with my left foot, smashing it into the ground. I hear a crack which must be its skin breaking. I deliver another blow with my left foot, this time to its head, then two more in quick succession, once again to its head. Even in the nearly completely faded light I can see that its head has been caved in from my blows. It is dead. It could be food. I doubt I could eat its skin without injuring myself, but what is inside might be edible. I pick it up in both arms and start back towards my fire; at least I think this is the right direction. I start to walk I realize, my left foot hurts, from stomping on the thing I would imagine. The pain is not that bad and I keep walking. I look back at where I have stepped, in the dark it is hard to tell but I believe I am leaving some blood behind with each step. Oh well, nothing I can do about it right now.
Looking back in the direction I am walking I see the flicker of my fire in the distance. The fire grows brighter and the ground begins to rise slowly, I am close. There! I can see the wood itself burning in the fire. I reach the fire and lay down my burden beside it. The fire has grown much lower. I add the other half of the biggest branch, it catches quickly. I look at the thing. It is near pitch black even in the light of the fire. I feel its skin, it is like a mixture between stone and bark (as I thought before), and has many ridges running all over it, a good number of which are sharp. That is how my foot got cut.
Its head has no eyes, mouth or ears that I can see, but it does (or did since they are somewhat destroyed in the middle now), have several very wide, vertical, dull ridges on the front. Where its body is caved in I grab an edge of the hole and pull a piece comes free, I do this again and again and again and again. There is a clear liquid on my hands now. I lick one of my fingers tentatively; the liquid tastes sweet, it is good. I reach a hand into the hole, pull my hand out and lick it all over. Very good, but I must see if there is a part of this I can eat as well as drink. I pick up one of the few remaining branches and hit the place where the things left leg connects to its torso. The skin cracks. I hit it three more times, the wood as a club is now useless, I throw it on the fire, but in its short club life it made good progress. I seize the limb and give it a good twist it comes off. I poke my hand inside there is something solid in there perhaps edible, I will cook it. I take a long thin branch and stick it inside the leg, then holding onto the branch I place the leg on the fire, but not completely, this way the branch will hopefully not light. I place the thing on my lap now, enlarge the whole in its torso a bit and then begin drinking by plunging my hands in and then licking them.
My thirst is quenched for now. I take the leg off the fire. I stick my hand inside and grab onto something solid. I pull it out. It is a dull yellow coloured hunk of matter small enough for me to hold in one hand. There are long, thin, shallow dips in it which run its length. I try to pull a piece away. It comes away easily in a nice strip. I put it in my mouth, it is little too tough to chew easily, but I am very hungry. I barely chew, swallowing it I almost choke. It has no taste. I take another piece and place it in my mouth chewing it more slowly, its taste is similar to that of the liquid, though not as sweet. I must not have noticed the taste the first time because it barely touched my mouth.
I take more pieces until the whole thing is devoured. I reach inside the leg and pull out another piece. I take another strip and begin chewing, but I do not feel that hungry anymore. I finish the piece anyways. I would have thought that I would have been more hungry, but I guess not.
I am tired. I put the thing on the other side of the fire; it is too sharp for me to rest my head upon. I add the rest of the wood to the fire. There does not appear to be any comfortable nooks or ledges in the rock to rest my head upon. Oh well, I curl up with my back against it and rest my head on the ground. I feel a throbbing in the bottom of my foot. It is my wound I received when stomping in that thing. I should probably look at it, but I think I’ll do that tomorrow. Anyways I’ve got a bunch of other little cuts as well, I can check them all at once. For now I am tired, I will sleep.
Chapter 5
My eyes open slowly. I sit up, my neck hurts. I must have slept funny. The fire is only a few coals now, though they still have some heat. I add the last of the tiny twig branches. I will cook the rest of the thing, eat as much as I can and then carry the rest with me. I look down at my shirt; it has a few more holes than before I think. Around some of the holes the shirt is darker, my blood. My pants seem okay, I don’t think I have any cuts on my legs. I take off my shirt and inspect my body. I have some cuts on my chest and stomach. The outside part of my upper right arm has so many cuts on it that it is almost one bug cut. Fortunately the blood from all my cuts has hardened. I don’t see anything stuck in the dry blood either. I think there is nothing I can do… even if I knew what to do if there was something wrong. I put my shirt back on and add all the rest of what little wood is left to the fire, except for the two biggest pieces, though they are not very big, that I will use to break apart the thing.
I take off the other one of its lower limbs without breaking the stick I used. I add the second leg and what remains of the first to the fire. I take off the right arm and the stick breaks. I throw its remains on the fire as well as the arm. The left arm comes off; the second has not yet broken. I put the left arm on the fire and take off both of the legs. My stick breaks while I am trying to separate the head from the torso. I use my hands and tear it off. I suffer a few more cuts. Over both of the spots were I broke the skin of this thing, one on the head and one on the torso, a sort of soft bark-like structure has formed. It is the same colour as the liquid I drank last night. Perhaps this thing bleeds just like me, and what I drank was its blood. I throw the head and torso on the fire and take the arms off. I feel hungry. I pick up the partially eaten leg and reach inside, I guess it is fully eaten; there is nothing left which I can find. I take the other leg, I reach inside of it, I pull out a piece, I eat it. It is very good. I take another piece from the leg, much larger than the first one. It satisfies my hunger.
I take the head and torso off the fire. I should start moving; I don’t want to sit here all day. But the head and torso are hot and I would like to carry them, I will wait. Hmm… why do I walk? Why do I keep moving? I mean, perhaps there are more of those things around, I could live off them if there are. And there is ample wood for fires. No, I do not want to stay here, maybe, probably, I don’t know why that is. I touch my left hand to the torso; it is cool enough to carry now. I shift into a crouch and hold the torso against my chest with one arm so that its widest sides face up and down. In my hand I take an arm, I place it on the torso, I take the other too and the head upon the arms. I stand. I turn. And walk around the rock. I keep walking in the direction in which I was before I sat down to rest last night. The ground is rising slowly. The trees are thinning. I come out of the last of them. In front of me is a short steep slope of the same strange, grey, soft, rock as the ground. I hold the pieces of the thing to my chest with my right hand and begin my ascent. There are few hand holds but I use my left arm to help myself where I can. I grasp the lip of the small ridge with my left hand and pull the rest of myself over. I sort of roll onto my feet and stand; now holding my food with both hands. All I can see are sort partial arcs of stone springing from the ground like miniature mountains. They very in size, some are slightly shorter than me. Though many much are taller, at least twice as tall as me. A few I can make out appear to be much larger than the others, though nowhere near as tall as mountains. All of them are made of a stone much harder than that of the forest I have just left. There colour is a mixture of white and very light grey, or perhaps it just is very light grey. At their bases many connect leaving no space to walk among them. Though ahead of me is a path through them which twists out of my vision. I hope it keeps going. I believe it keeps going. Forward I walk down the path. It does keep going. It winds again, again, again. I fear that on one of these winds it may end.
Above the clouds cover the sky. They are very dark, almost completely black. But I can still make out different layers and forms because of the occasional barely grey edge. I look back the way I came and already the black clouds have extended their reach so that they are all that I can see in the sky. The pillar-arcs also block my view of the soft forest where I ate. I turn back and start walking again along this winding way.
The more I walk the more it winds, this is the nature of the way. I am growing weary; I think I have been walking for a long time. It must be approaching dusk, but I cannot tell because the clouds do not change. But I am not tired, nor is it cold, though it is by no means warm. I doubt I will find anything to make a fire with here and the ground looks just as uncomfortable in all places. I will keep walking till I am dragged down by the weight of my eyelids.
I turn a wind and there is a large piece of rock lying in my path which comes almost to my chin. Above it is what appears to be a pillar-arc with its end missing and the rock on the ground looks as though it fits the part. I look on either side of the fallen piece—there is no way around either side unless I should climb among the arc-pillars. I place the torso of the thing, with the arms and on top, upon the fallen pillar-arc. They fall off the other side and make some muffled clicking sounds as they strike the ground. I grasp the top with my hands and full length of arm and, with the help of my feet pushing off the ground and the pillar-arc, pull myself up on top. Lying on my chest and stomach now I turn my body and slide off the other side of the rock. The rock rubs my chest; it is uncomfortable but not painful. I land on my feet. My pants and shirt are covered in the rock dust which is all around, here. I turn to look down the path once again. The legs and torso of the thing are there lying several steps away. Of the head I see no sign. I pick up the torso and legs and place them in a pile in the center of the path. I look at the edges of the path, where the pillar-arcs sprout, for the head. I cannot see it. Perhaps it bounced up and into the place where the dust falls from. I will not look for it there though it would be far too difficult and potentially treacherous and probably futile in the end.
I pick the torso and place the legs on top. I start walking along the path again in the direction which I was going before. The path winds and I see it forks in three directions. Which way should I go? I do not know. My mind has grown weary and my body says it is time to rest. I look around for a good spot to lie down, none seem any better than the others. I take the legs off the torso and lay them down in the middle of the fork. I lay the torso down too. I sit down, pick up one of the legs, break the seal which has formed on the torn end. I reach inside and pull out a lump of food. I eat quickly, for as I now realize I am hungry. I take another piece and eat it. I reach inside again for more, but there is no more. I will rest now.
I take shirt off and fold it once. I place on the torso of the thing. It is now a comfortable place to rest my head. I lie down with my head on my shirt which is on the torso. Lying on my back I look up at the sky, the clouds. They are still black, but their barely grey edges let me see them roiling. The position of individual clouds in the sky, where it is possible to discern them from the great mass blotting out any celestial beings, does not seem to change; only their form does. The edges of the clouds start to gain new colours, and they move randomly and wildly. I have not seen this happen in all my time here, perhaps it is the sunset. I have seen the clouds take on different colours from the sun before, I have not seen these black clouds do so before now. I shift my body slightly to get more comfortable, but I do not see any pillar-arcs, when, I believe, I rightly should. The clouds are all around wherever I look. And I cannot see my body. This very strange, but this has happened before, though them the only I could not see as my body. I hear a deep booming noise. My eyes open at this. My eyes. My eyes were simply closed, and those were not the clouds, but the ever present darkness when it is dark and eyes are closed, and the light which roams across them. I feel sleepy and that’s why my eyes closed. And without me even noticing. But what was that booming noise? And where did it come from. I see a twisted string of light appears in the sky, lasting just long enough so that I can see it before it disappears. Then the booming sound rumbles across the sky again. There, I see another string which splits. The noise again. What is it? They seem to come consistently, so far, one after the other; the light then the noise. Perhaps the light causes the noise? I think it does, or something similar to that is the case. I think it is thunder… and lightning, but in the reverse order. The light is lightning and the sound is thunder. But I have had enough of thinking for now. Darkness is tugging at the edges of my eye. I will let it pull me away into slumber.
Edit: made it so the story can be read (fixed paragraghs).