Lakota Saw Her Too
From The
Mindscapes
Of
Valormore
The morning
is starting with a primordial panorama. Warm fog hangs low, stuffing the valleys
with cottony pillows. Scattered about, rocky outcrops of the higher peaks,
protrude from under the blanket of vapors, rendering the likeness of a Jurassic
sea dotted with barren islands. Perched above the scene on the third highest
peak, from my stone and mortar home, I sip my coffee while imagining an
assortment of prehistoric creatures that hide within the etheric white shroud. Fog
is rare in this arid climate. In a short time, the rising sun will blow his hot
breath to vanquish these vagabond vapors. I will fantasize about the hidden
depths until the last wisp of it rises to ride the wind.
“What is it
Lakota?” I ask my snarling dog and good friend, as his hackles rise on his
back.
He growls as
he begins to move forward with hesitant steps. Calling Lakota back; I stroke
his head and remind him that a tyrannosaurs-rex could swallow him whole. My four-legged
friend is not amused, or distracted from his vigilance. We have been best of
friends for many years and I trust his instincts over my own. I make ready, the
double-barrel shotgun that lies across my lap. He appears emboldened by my
posture, letting out a threatening bark. To get a visitor up here is as rare as
the fog. The few people, who come this way, know to announce themselves before
they come into range of my scattergun. Lakota and I hunt for game on a regular
basis. He knows, to stay close and quiet. When marauders venture too near, his
stance and demeanor are more aggressive. Whatever hides in the fog is more of a
curiosity to him than a threat.
The sun is
rising fast from behind me to dissipate this misty vail. An eagle’s shrill
voice calls from on high and echoes through the valley, as I remain peering
into the ghostly vapors, at the ready for anything. Or so I thought. The
emerging image sends a startled shiver through my body and Lakota sits at my
side with a perplexed whimper. Before me stands young Emily. She passed away
three seasons ago, when she was forty-three. Yet she is here, young and
vibrant. She smiles at me. My heart flutters and my pulse quickens, as it did
on the first day we met, all those years ago. The fog is fading fast and so is
my Emily. She blows me a kiss as she vanishes.
Lakota runs
to where she was standing and attempts to locate her scent. He returns with a disappointed
sadness, that is reflecting my own feelings. He goes back to the spot, casting back
and forth in disbelief.
I am known
to have a fertile imagination. I might believe, in this case, it applies to
Emily’s apparition, nonetheless, Lakota saw her too.
THE END
By
Valormore