Ari remains undisciplined.July 9, 2008 at 5:31 pm | Posted in writing | 14 Comments
Tags: ari, redemption through hugging, Sunonhead, writing
Sunonhead stands on one leg, one hand shielding his eyes from the morning sun and the other holding his spear. He is pretending to be in a old seafarer’s quick line drawing of an aborigine looking out over the desert. But it is wrong, sometimes he thinks for one man to pretend to be another. We are all manifestations of the one soul, the old man had said and he relaxed and looked back over his shoulder. She is asleep, curled up as though hugging the radiant warmth from the core of the planet.
He had to admit he was lost and he hoped that when she awoke she will have dreamt them somewhere new. Ari was off again, chasing horses the silly bugger. Sunonhead had resigned himself to the inexplicable madness of his son and the permanent impresence of his errant father. He was lucky though he thinks as he attempts to light the fire with damp flints again that he occasionally overheard her conversations with the old man and had managed to translate some of them into a language of simple symbols easiest remembered when rhymed. I am such a monobrained and hairy old Caliban he thinks.
Ari has heard the jingle of hips and is off, fleeing into mad pursuit of some wild maned creature who uses stars for camouflage and who has a secret spell, when she smiles it means other people are happy,