Monday, June 28, 2010
By the June Moon
He was not.
Then he was.
The change happened so delicately, so imperceptibly, that he wasn't immediately aware of the difference.
If you asked him in that moment, that moment of being after not-being, he wouldn't have answered you. Because to answer, it is not enough to hear. You must first be able to distinguish sound from not-sound. Then distinguish meaningful sounds from noise. Then speech from non-speech. And finally, your brain must be trained and equipped to translate that language.
So he would not distinguish you from the dark.
As he was.
Eyes nailed forward. Knees folded to his chest. Hands flat on the floor. A floor which sat empty a few moments before.
He stared and existed and did not discern.
Until he did discern.
A sound scrubbing at the boundaries of his consciousness.
Rhythmic. A rhythm. A hiss and rumble, hiss and rumble.
Waves. He was hearing waves crashing. And his consciousness said waves. His first thought in the dark.
He was hearing waves roll and rumble beneath him.
And not knowing where or why.
And that sparked his first emotion.
(This week is Where's Jason week. I'm writing on location. Somewhere. And I'm exploring a scene which jumped into my head two months ago. It's a perfect location to do it. The picture was taken last night. How's that for turn-around?)