Where…where’s the dawn?
I’m not afraid. But why am I alone?
They’ve tied me to the bed again. A bed of steel in the crops, with no room, with no walls. I used to see the shiny crows. They weren’t afraid of me. They walked on the railings above my head, thinking of flying. Once, one came with a man. He sat on the edge of the bed and showed me the future. His face was shaped like an animal’s. He prayed with me for the Lord of the wretched and the flies. Is that my memory or yours? I can’t tell these days. I remember that the man left a cold weight on my belly. It’s still there weighting on my every breath, but now it is warm.
Can you help me up? No, it’s alright, you can’t. You’re just a figment of my imagination. I think I’m glad you’re here though.
There. I’m free.
I think the man has left me the future. It’s welded into my skin. So small, so gentle. I can cut it out with my bone knife – a gift from the crows. My womb is hollow now.
Maybe I can understand this, live with its legend. Here it has been all along. The dawn.
But is that all that’s left of it? A fading ring of fire, a giant’s eye shrinking in the distance of this obsidian?
Wait…don’t leave me alone.
The dawn will soon go.
And I’ll be afraid of this future.