Shimmer

As the machine passes with its eight huge bodies, its wheels, like legs are screeching on its path. A collossal beast; humans that go inside never return. Thats what i’ve been told. Our village keeps away. Mama says we are safe. I find the beast scary and dangerous yet exciting. I sit on the bridge every day, in the early morning mist staring at the beast. Today it is particularly windy and my wild hair lashes at my face. My thin dress billows around my body and the cold chills me to the bone. The echoing sound of the drums from my tribe call me back. My consciousness is pulling me down off the green bridge but the drums pull my spirit, beckoning me home.

Mama and Billy are cooking our dinner as the little ones listen to stories from the elders. Papa and Flek are sharpening their tools for hunting tomorrow. No one except Graneir knows of my daily visits to the bridge, she spied my once and I spied her. Elik and I are dancing round the flicking fire our dresses spinning wildly. Billy brings over our meal, her hair is pulled back with a stem. 

Dinner is delicious. I feel sorry for Elik, Zha Zha, Golfha and the other little ones, they are served last. I think somehow we should all be served at the same time. Actually it is Skyleir who is fed last. Skyleir is our wolf. Really she is my wolf, but I share. Graneir gestures at me to come over. Noone argues with Graneir not even the sun or the moon or the stars. Only the rain clouds don’t listen but they get no love from Graneir. The warm rain and soft wind are friends of Graneir though.

Graneir whispers to me: Telika you show great courage. I have a gift for you. Meet me by the river when the moon is almost right above. Skyleir will bring you. 

Granier is very mysterious and speaks in short sentences. The others think that she is strange but I am the one who understands her. And she understands me. After meal we all huddle in under the shelter that Papa, Flek, Seseki and Uncle Golishei made. It is cosy. I make sure that I am on the edge and next to Skyleir. She breaths slow like a lullaby and is my warmth, my blanket.

I feel a snuffling at my face…..

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