A golden horizon fades into a pale shade of coal as another icy blast of wind races across the countryside and stirs a great calamity into motion. Like a frosty sea, foaming at the mouth. That blank canvas of endless nothingness had long since become an eyesore to me. An emptiness that seems fitting for my delirious mood -- yet it also makes me quake with solid vulnerability. I can't help but cower in the face of isolation. What a cruel world, with cruel people. Here on these battered mounds there is no shelter I can find comfort within, or warm delights for my cold belly. This was a hard, empty place; full of lost dreams. Intelligent souls would argue that foreigners of reasonable sanity shouldn't have a reason to venture into this unforgiving land.

Sanity is obviously lost to me.

I mindlessly swallow a soundless groan and suck another lungful of that thin air;  all the while stubbornly following a footpath of my own demise. These cool heels rise and fall...rise and fall... their endless, melancholy rhythm is nothing but flawless. As if there was some real purpose to my wandering. Behind me, the undertow of ash is whisked by a near constant current -- the biting breeze erases any mark of my presence upon the ground. I'm like a true ghost. Only made flesh by a body that moans it's resentment. Even with hard muscles that have grown accustomed to travel...the core is sick of only existing.

Walking.

I'm lonely.

But not alone...

A life of forced silence has made me an excellent listener. So even when I'm distracted by a vortex of scattered muse -- as the stranger draws near...I hear...no...sense the weight of his girth disrupting that faded row. His heavy body; larger than mine even in it's prime. The threads along my thighs stiffen uncertainty, and both ears slice back warily against the roof of my head. They hear his drum quicken, it thunders into the earth as if a foe had come racing from behind. I twist right to look back, quivering with anticipation of his approach or the threat that may follow. As he comes into view, boldly stamping his mark into the earth - I freeze in place, though the taunting smoke around my neck and rump still dances and twirls at random.

...just a man...

My physical self turns into him, even while I’m combating the sudden urge to jerk away. He wouldn't offer me a quick escape…instead the male spoke. To me. When was the last time I sampled a warm word? My jaw loosens as if to form a reply, but of course nothing can come forth except the smog within me. Eyelids slide shut, they flutter open a heartbeat later with glinting resolve. Beneath hooded eyes I wittingly attempt to reach for his mind, fusing my conscious ideals and words with him. Dual gems flicker across his brow, sinking to the darkened pools below – this man is the polar opposite of me. He radiates health and confidence; whereas mine is lean and poorly maintained on both fronts.

"Same to you," an attempt at warmth, but my tone simply lacks any real attachment or vibrancy. The raw stew of negativity and pain seeps over the brim, possibly dunking him in all its glorious disjointedness. The corners of my temple pinches together as I struggle to control myself. It has been so long since I'd spoke. "In a hurry to somewhere important?" The question is soft and nonthreatening, melting like the snow on our bodies. I pull away, saving my energy for reattachment rather than struggle to maintain the connection.