Dirge by Mehreen Ahmed

The grass had become dehydrated. The trees poured out saffron. The brittle straws clung to mother earth, and there was a stream of orange. The soil was made of sand. It caved in and became hollow. A hole in the soil where I slept in awakening. I felt nothing at first. Then a hunger rose. I ate my hunger, I walked into a dream. Dream of life. There was silence in my heart. It whispered an autumnal dirge, there was a war. And I was a wounded soldier. There was much pain. I saw dancing lights before I passed out.

I felt I stood in front of a ship. This specter of a ship, full of passengers on board. They held golden scepters and drank from golden cups, these were Kings and Queens of greater imaginations. Once they were here, fighting like crazy for the love of the land, in powerful bodies. Now they seem to be dancing like flying apparition, I waited out on the shore as the ship slowly anchored. Deep into the blue of an ocean of wonders, I waited patiently, to catch the Kings’ ponders. They rose from their seats and summersaulted. For they were a bunch of glowing faces, drowning in ethereal gases.

I wondered why they looked like this. Also, the ship, a vessel of uncovered ribs. A telltale sign of for no fleshy tales, why did they drank and ate indeed. Then I realized, I was passing through a zone of a worldly flesh still on bones. My memory was intact, but merging with the unknown, subdued and livid, alas in a free-zone. I still breathed an air, in this warfare, except there were no cries in this stilly night. The bullets were gone, the soldiers slept at peace, in their little crypts, some closed and some bare.

Where was I, this fuzzy zone, caught up between in another war zone? The dances of the lights led me on, but I felt like a dunce in tattered clothes and all. I was still wearing a soldier's uniform, but pretty sure I didn’t need one. I felt a rush of adrenaline pushing me on, wake up, I heard a call, from mom next door. She came into my room and covered me up with a patched blanket she had been stitching for a while now.

“Wake up, wake up, you fool,” she cried out.