The gust of wind brought with it thoughts charged with memories. Times that were filled with the bitter and the sweet, times that was loved as well as hated. Those were the times when I ‘lived’. I am no ghost talking to you. I am just another self that was once alive.
~ So said the voice to me through the dead of the night. I looked around only to find myself – the only one sitting on the edge. It had rained in the evening. The night was cooler. The trees swayed gently to the rhythm of the wind, whispering the secrets of the dark night. Is that the voice that I heard? The torn cotton clouds gave way to the wind and I could see the moon.
A creak nearby. Somebody turned. The old beds groaned in protest. The sounds of the distant land – could be heard loud and clear. But they were just sounds; reminders of the lands that lay beyond the invisible wall.