Tricks of the Light

By

Twyla Jane

Disclaimer: don’t own them sadly others do, never made a plug nickel off them either. A sequel to “Illusion” 2/15/04


Who?
What?
Where?
When?
How?
Why?

 

This place had Ezra thinking of the six questions that every investigative reporter set out to answer, but there inlay the very root of his problem.  Who was easy, he was Ezra P. Standish, his compatriot had asked him only moments early trying to ascertain the extent of his injuries. What, well that fell under the auspices of the yet to be defined his aching head failed to grasp the fine details of had just happened. Where was the most puzzling, he wasn’t sure. He was still too weak to move and couldn’t see far from his current vantage point, ensconced in Mr. Wilmington’s lap.  When well Ezra wasn’t quite sure what day it was let alone the year something he wasn’t about openly divulge.  The answers to how and why he had ended up in this bewildering situation eluded him as well.

His eyes didn’t seem to be working right.  The bright sunshine along with the buildings abruptly disappeared and the hazy world turned black, the dark sand was illuminated by the soft light of the moon, lying there unable to move watching something massive move through the dunes, had to be a trick of the light.

It was so hard to see.

“Hey Ezra ya in there buddy?” He knew that Buck was speaking to him. A light tap on his cheek had his eyelids fluttering open, squinting at the painfully bright sunlight, Ezra wondered when they had closed.  

“That’s better Ez, don’t want ya falling asleep just yet…” Having Buck’s mustached face mere inches from his set off a feeble chuckle that quickly turned in a gut twisting ragged bout of coughing.

It hurt too much to breathe.

“Ez? Please stop … Yer scaring me.”

Standish could feel himself being pulled up into a sitting position just as the world violently twisted away.

A cool breeze washed over his damp skin, a layer of sand clung almost square inch of his face and hands. The grit was beginning dry in solid clumps on his clothing as he lay on his belly on the ground.

Disgusting

 Letting out an unhappy sigh Ezra struggled to roll over, after a few long moments he eventually managing to get his unwieldy limbs to cooperate and was finally able to sit up. In the moon lit night he could see his bare feet against the slope of the dunes. How odd, some where along the line he had misplaced his shoes. Ezra was sure he had lost something else but he couldn’t quite figure out just what.  

Seems he couldn’t figure out a lot. All he knew he was alone.

Alone like always

Unsure as to why that would bother him, Ezra shrugged it off for the time being.  It was going to be hard enough to remember what he did to end up in this mess.

 

I am just a worthless liar
I am just am an imbecile
I will only complicate you
Trust in me if all is well

"Sober” by Tool 1993

Feedback