a brief excerpt from the Journal of Krish...
The morning is cold and filled with mist. I had to warm my hands with the steaming cup of tea Sam handed to me before I could trim the quills and write in the journal. We had walked for a awhile, then laid down to rest before the sunrise, but neither of us did more then doze in a dream state. Sam would not speak of her dreams of late, I knew they were troublesome to her.
My old friend has returned. I once again had the dream, searching through the trees in the Grove as a child, looking and not finding something just out of reach. It is a dream filled with panic and uncertainity and to this day, I still don't know what I am looking for. The danger is not from behind, but from ahead, always has been.
I am tired, and this pace is not something we can continue. It has been twenty summers since we first left the Grove, off to war and adventure. We were young and foolish. Now I am feeling the winters and some days, even more foolish. My legs ache, but the best thing for that is to walk. So we'll walk, the urgency is there.
Just another cup of tea, a stretch of the legs and the clearing of my thoughts and I will be ready. I think I may have to wait on the thoughts for awhile. Hopefully once the mist clears, the sun will peak out and the warmth will travel deep into my bones. We need to find our smile again, even in the depths of grief, we must never forget to smile. I remember that old saying, but it has grown hard to do.
Maybe I will ask Sam to race.
I predict Sam won.
Posted by: vange | 09/30/2010 at 12:44 PM