Sunday, September 12, 2004

old dream #2

i'm in the middle of the woods. it's night time. i'm leading a small group of men down a small path. we are armed with spears. it is my belief that this is some kind of manhood ritual. a symbolic raid against a nearby tribe. the responsibility for its success belongs to me and in preparation i made this trail myself, it's known only to me.
It comes as a two-fold surprise when we are ambushed by warriors from our own tribe.
The leader of the other group resembles a kid i went to high school with. for whatever reason, he wants me to fail my mission.
i easily defeat two of the warriors but my rival takes advantage and blindsides me, knocks me to the ground. He tries to stab my legs but i avoid the blows by rolling to either side. he feints successfully and drives the stone point of the spear into my thigh. i pass out.
when i awake i am alone. my leg feels week and there is a pool of blood congealing on a carpet of dead leaves. I stand up and find, gladly, my leg is strong enough to support me. from my belt i produce a small stone knife. it's teardrop shaped, the round end wrapped with leather and is made from flaked obsidian or flint. it fits nicely into my palm. outraged at my betrayal, i take off in pursuit of my rival.
he is still on the trail, heading home alone. he has abandoned his spear. he doesnt hear me as i sprint up behind him and throw him to the ground. i pin him down with my left hand pinching his adam's apple. the knife is upraised in my right. the feeling of anger and betrayal mounting i scream questions at him, why why why. his only answer is a snarl of rage and his face twists into features that are almost cartoonishly rat-like. i plunge the dagger into his throat and walk home.


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