Tuesday, 20 July 2010

Dreaming of evil

She was already awake when he stirred beside her in the dark. He moaned, then threw his arms about and shouted, a long open sound without articulation, getting higher and stronger, a sound of resistance and defence, his legs beginning to kick. This had happened before: she shook him to wake him up, to cut short the agitation and distress.
He woke up enough to embrace her. Their bodies intertwined.
You were shouting, she murmured into his chest.
There was a reason, he said, still half in it.

* * * *

Am back from sesshin, a week in Rotoiti with a good leader. Somewhat euphoric, waiting for that to pass. I think that I must write something every day, even if it is as short as the above.