Saturday, March 05, 2005
 
Excerpt from Duisterville

Tomma Torstig pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring the intoxicated protests and rude complaints of those she roughly pushed out of her way. She didn't know where she was going, but just kept walking, not adhering to either sidewalks or streets. When she reached an open field, she finally stopped and sat down on the ground. It was windy, cold, and dry. There had been very little rain this spring so that the ground was hard, and had been ripped apart with the destruction wrought by some kind of rodent or something. She felt like she was the ground- that she was thirsty just like the ground- torn apart by the rodents of the world. The wind whipped across the dry field causing her to shiver violently. She put her face in her hands in despair.

It was late in the evening by now, and there were no lights out in the open field except the sliver of moon and the stars shining down from above. But even if Tomma could have seen, she had her face buried in her hands, and would probably never have noticed the dark cloud forming just above her. It started as a thread, as if just a small tear in the fabric of space. It ripped longer and wider until thick darkness spilled through from whatever was on the other side. Sharp flaming eyes formed in the surging black cloud, swirling and swirling around, eyeing their prey beneath them.

Tomma tried to clear her head. No, there was nothing to clear. Her life was falling apart. She had lost her two close friends, Philip and Caleb. She had looked up to Todd. Yes, she had respected him, but now with the way he had treated her. She shook her head. It seemed like everyone had abandoned her, and everything was so confusing.

She was so distraught that she didn't notice that the wind was gone and the ground had trembled just slightly beneath her. She saw a small sprout appeared through the broken clay, growing way too fast for a plant. Then another sprout appeared nearby. The sprouts pushed higher, faster, thicker. One tentacle then another grew from the ground on all sides of her. She was surrounded. Suddenly the ground shook violently, and she looked up to see thick, high tentacles covered with a thick long hairs and a black jelly all along its surface. They were towering over her. Dirt was flying everywhere. Tomma staggered backwards, staring for just a moment at the giant hairy arms before turning to run, but there were more behind her. There was no escape. Massive tentacles closed around her, the clay buckling and rising beneath her feet like she was in the palm of a giant hand. She screamed when the fingers closed about her.

Tomma lay on the broken clay of the field, drifting in and out of consciousness. Water...she needed water...she was so thirsty...so agonizingly thirsty...

Margie, what's that ahead, lying in the field? An older man and his wife were out for a late evening stroll through the open field. Margie it's a young woman! Call 9-1-1. Hurry Margie, she looks like she might be dying.

Tomma drifted in and out of consciousness as she was carried on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance. All she could think about was her thirst. She was so thirsty, so very thirsty. The sirens wailed in the background while they connected an IV to her wrist. Something she had heard once echoed through her mind:

O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water.


- posted by Bruce @ 1:51 PM | | 0 rocks in pond



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