She woke to the weight of that dream pressing on her chest.
That and a blanket.
And pain. Always pain.
Lying on the roundhouse floor, unable to rise, the memory of the owl lingered in her head, but she made no attempt to dismiss it. Dreams had their own distorted logic, a logic that had little application in the waking world, nevertheless she’d recognised some veiled half-truth in its twisted reasoning, something she sensed was of personal relevance to herself.
The Seeking was done.
That realisation made her wince inside, rousing the melancholy she always associated with the completion of a Tasking. Although such events should have provided a sense of accomplishment or achievement, in her own case they’d never heralded more than the removal of purpose, a lingering sense of helplessness and the dreaded prospect of a return to Luachair.
And the ghosts awaiting there.
[Segment from Liath Luachra: The Metal Men – 2022]
Image ref: Segment from ‘Lonely Girl’ by Luis Royo.
