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      	  Reaching 
 by calathea  

 

 

 The trees loomed over him like talons, clawing at the star-filled sky. He
shivered a little, shifted closer to the flame he had finally coaxed out
of the scraps of dry wood he'd been able to amass. He had wasted time he
should have spent gathering firewood, first in a fruitless search for his
suddenly absent father, and then, panicking, looking for the trail they
had been following. He shivered again. It was a long time 'til dawn, and
he did not dare sleep lest his tiny fire go out. 

 "Dad?", he said, in a small voice, half-afraid, half-hoping his father
was hiding, watching him, just out of reach of the nimbus of light cast by
the fire. "Dad..." 

 * * * * *  

 The clock by his bed ticked away the minutes, counterpoint to the
murmured night time hush of the hospital. He sighed and moved his
shoulders a little to ease the pain in his back, glanced again at the
clock. 3:13 am. 

 He closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, he was once again running,
running along the platform, running towards her outstretched hand,
reaching out with his own. 


 His eyes popped open. He could not bear to dream. 

 Soundlessly, his lips moved."I caught this morning morning's minion..." 

 * * * * *  

 The Consulate building sighed at night, settling more deeply onto its
foundations. The room bulged with brooding objects. He lay on his back,
his eyes on the ceiling. It seemed sleep was to be added to his catalogue
of losses today: his home, his few possessions, his friend and almost,
almost, the curious stranger wearing Ray's name. 

 Ray's words came back to him, reaching out across a now unbridgeable
distance. His own voice surprised him in the dark. "we have this thing
called friendship... This is something a friend would do...". 

* * * * *  

 It was dark and cold, and they were skidding, flying, dangerously out of
control. The land dipped and curved, hiding death in every hollow. He slid
away from Ray, and shouted his name, reaching out his hands. Their quest,
coming to this bone-crushing end, in an explosion of pain

 

 Half-awake, he called out in a stifled voice,"Ray! Ray!" 

 An arm flailed, wrapped around him, and a sleepy voice muttered, "Wha..?
Huh..?" 

 In the pre-dawn gloom, he could just make out the familiar shape of the
cabin. "Nothing." he whispered, "A nightmare. Go back to sleep." 

 The arm around his waist tightened, and he heard Ray grunt, felt Ray give
him a clumsy rubbing pat on the stomach. He closed his eyes, and slept.  
  

End Reaching by calathea 

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