It’s been months since I last made contact, I am aware of that. A breeze-less country had swallowed me and somehow got me isolated. The occasional person I encountered could not locate this eccentric place geographically but named it: Calling Leopard Lake.
There are so many explanations, excuses, foolish thoughts .. but I bought her a birthday present every year even though she was gone. I might have been dreaming of the perfect gift waiting to be unraveled, but somehow the concept calmed me down and I realized I would live until her next birthday.
I arrived at this solitary village late in the evening. The sky was still pale blue and when I got out of my car a silence surrounded me as if I just had pulled a thick plaid over my head. Unexpectedly I heard a distant conversation, first some muffled sentences and then a woman saying: ‘ I’m just afraid my baby will be eaten by a coyote’
I worked ..like a hurricane.
The sun, or was it the moon, forced its way through the curtains.
Three days ago I saw both darkness and light. It came to me out of the strangest of atmospheres, slithering quick and smooth like an amphibious creature. It was beautiful in a strange and upsetting way, it dawned on me then that I had been lost for a long time.
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I came upon a place covered with invasive weeds, clearly no victim of natural controls. Wading through the jungly green and crushing the slightly wrinkled leaves with each step, a strong odor of garlic overpowered me. The essence lingered for days in my clothes.
The farm was immense, while strolling towards the main building I noticed a man approaching. He was holding something in his hands and therefore walking slowly and cautiously. Then I saw he was carrying a white carton box in a rectangular shape with several circular holes at the sides. I could hear strange screams coming through the holes but decoding what kind of creature could be inside was almost impossible. By the time I realized the high-pitched shouts were alarming and threatening the man had disappeared in the woods behind me.
I had been hiding for several months, waiting to regain strength. Then unexpectedly I emerged at the beginning of fall making a series of long walks. One afternoon I observed a group and as if running, no living parallel to their world, I fought a sudden urge to lift my arm for a casual hand wave.
All I could think of was getting away from there as fast as I could. Disillusionment made me abort my next trip and I decided to backtrack the route I had read in the long letters given to me weeks ago. My rental car had a cracked windshield after a couple of pebble assaults but the view through it was magnificent, I drove fast. Some time that night I stopped and fell asleep as I had done innumerable times: unaccompanied and nomadic.
After my shortened stay with the religious tapir a darkness had fallen over me. Travelling was virtually erasing my longings and I suspected I had reached a pivotal point .