Sand and stone, part 2 Tuesday February 14, 2006, 0 comments

He regained consciousness as daylight heaved itself over the horizon. In the desert, the disc of the sun appeared large, but even more so as the boy lay leaning against the basalt tower. He looked up again, just in time to see the last star of the night shiver and wink out in deference to the sun.

The boy couldn’t remember how long he had been on this journey to the rock, and he wasn’t sure what he would find, but now that he was here, the months – centuries! – he had spent searching for this place receded, replaced with a deep dread of what he must do next.

He sighed and rose, dizzy for a moment from dehydration and fatigue, and set off to his left to circle the black column. Once, twice, three times he circled it before he spotted a crack just big enough for his withered and emaciated body to slip through. Heart pounding, he entered.

The crack grew tighter and darker as he pushed further into it. At one point, long after he had lost his sight to the darkness, he felt the rock squeeze him from front and back and he feared he’d be stuck forever, but panic, sweat and some earnest wiggling allowed him to slip past and into a space that felt very open.

It wasn’t as dark here as it was in the crack, and once his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he could see clearly enough to be left breathless. The floor was the same black glistening rock that made up the whole tower, and the roof was so far above his head that he couldn’t see it. The entire place thrummed with energy and majesty – a cathedral to some ineffable, arrogant godling.

On a raised platform at the center of the chamber was a simple marble table, white and out of place. Curled up at its base were three black dogs, slumbering peacefully. The table he could have understood, but the dogs were inexplicable, more out of place than the table itself.

He had journeyed so long, always aware of his goal, and now that he was here, staring at the dogs in the dark, he felt for the first time uncertainty. There was no way he could get to the table without waking them, and he wasn’t sure he wanted them to know he was there.

Kill them. Fool them. Befriend them. Leave them be and go back. He doubted he could fool them, and killing them seemed as unlikely. The boy stood still as the rock he was buried in, petrified by his uncertainty.


Comments

Commenting has ended for this post, but I'd still love to hear from you.

The website of Adrian Lebar

A Rain of Frogs is written, designed and built by Adrian Lebar, a twenty(!) year veteran of web design and development. He is currently managing web and mobile development teams at Canada’s largest and most beloved classifieds site, Kijiji!

He is a father, sailor, snowboarder, skier, cyclist, writer, artist, graphic designer, classically trained musician and afraid of heights.

Adrian is not currently available for freelance and contract work. Learn more.

Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.”
- Mark Twain

Twitter

  • Remember back when ‘Design Thinking™’ was called ‘problem solving’? Friday October 20, 2017
  • Will hindsight still be hindsight after 2020? Thursday October 19, 2017
  • Holy hell this is a beautiful short: Watch “Fox And The Whale” on #Vimeo t.co/h7k5tHeRBR Monday October 16, 2017
  • I’m not convinced that Zuck’s assertion that eliminating anonymity would improve the tone of dialog on the ‘net is bearing up IRL. #ripaim Tuesday October 10, 2017
  • I may have peed my pants a tiny bit: Star Wars: The Last Jedi Trailer (Official) t.co/bwK8V0wlfr via @YouTube Tuesday October 10, 2017
  • “When programming steps further from the writing of ones and zeros, the loudest objections come from programmers.” — t.co/qonXGMXp8Y Monday October 2, 2017
  • “…addiction to cycles of outrage and counter-outrage is dividing us further, not encouraging us to work together” t.co/rBLKQ9FEnZ Friday September 29, 2017
  • Web sites and mobile apps aren’t bridges. It’s amazing how often people seem to forget this. Thursday September 28, 2017
  • Decades later, and I’m back into the blues. It’s like coming home after travelling abroad. Is anything more comfortable than one’s own bed? Tuesday September 26, 2017
  • Shit’s broken. Yup. Monday September 25, 2017