Bandha, part 2: Saturday…by G. Mramor


He awakens. Snow banks up against him, slightly closing him in. He can see through a sliver that it is morning.

He rolls deeper into the cave and gets out of the sleeping bag quickly because of the putrid smell and he crawls to the entrance and punches his way out.

The trees are all weighed heavily with a glassy snow. The sun is a white orb in the colourless sky. The snow is some feet deep but he does not sink in, he stands on top.

From inside the cave there comes a low sound. Bending back in he sees two glowing eyes and the faint structure of a muzzle. He collects the sleeping bag and quickly sets out.

He follows the boulders for a time, but finding many other caves moves away into the trees. He can hear in the distance the burdened grating sound of the snow plows. He stays away from them and follows the path.

He has been here before. As an old man. As a man. As a boy. He has gone with these faces before. Of mother. Of father and father’s ghost. Of friend and brother. Of you. And this confusion of feeling and absence he has felt before. Of being there and not here. Of being neither here nor there. All this he remembers that he has remembered. That there is one who sleeps and dreams him. That there is one who sleeps and calls him. That there is one who sleeps and awaits him. And what pain he cannot now feel runs yet in him to be released.

He descends into a valley where there is a lake and he sees him with a broken branch smack the ice before every step and he sees him near the black hole in the middle where a black flock treads around a waterjet and he sees him smack the ice and he sees the ice crack and he sees the boy drown.

He exits the valley and follows the path to the mountain slope and he sees him scale the flat mountain face in a fury and he sees the bloody prints his hands make in the snow and he sees him cross the face to jump across the crevasse before it widens and he sees the man fall.

The air thins as the path slopes and narrows. He passes through clouds and he comes to the cold airless summit. The sun begins to fall and he sees him standing at the edge of the summit and he sees all the world is before him covered in clouds and at the last redness of the sun he sees him smile and the old man jumps.

He shivurrs and is hard for breath. In the distance the blue massif glows and in between the new stars snow begins to fall.

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