CLOSER

She awoke covered in sweat and shaking, her gasping breath filling the room with something that had not been there previously. The curtains lifted as a cool breeze caressed them and the morning light that infiltrated by the sides was cast throughout the room. An orange haze washed everything. Golden shimmers from racing particles in the air. The very fabric of space alit with ripples of gold. As the curtains fell back the room regained the bronze aura that accompanied it when the mountain awoke. All the surfaces shining opaquely, galvanised like an alien dew in some distant world. She muttered something and shifted before sitting up.

It had been a bad dream.

As it evaporated from her mind, in the way dreams sometimes do, its afterglow settled, one of sharp edges and whispered murmurs.

There had been a white caribou. Its black antlers had extended out, growing larger until they were all around her. A dense canopy of them had enveloped her, all black but for the creature’s face. The caribou had said something yet its face had remained completely serene and motionless; dark green eyes that spoke of earth and forest.  Its voice had been the sound of rapids and trees ruffling in the wind, but she had somehow been able to understand the three words it muttered. Into the mountain.

It was the not the first time the caribou had visited her. For the past year that majestic creature had been dwelling her dreams. At first it had been but an essence, a subtle fragrance only palpable once she realised she was dreaming. Much to her annoyance she could never quite grasp it when she awoke, the concept of it slipping away through the gaps in her consciousness.  But it called to her in a way nothing ever had before.

Luring her closer.

She had driven out of the City one autumn morning. Soft steps and murmuring doors were the only things she left behind. Perhaps a little sanity as well; the mountain required little of it. No longer could she put aside thoughts of the caribou. The sound of its voice growing brighter, hotter, scalding those three words into her innards. Everything else fading in the light of this being. Answers were what she had set out to find. What were the questions?

Closer.

Days passed. And then some more. Time seized to govern life. In this realm other forces had the upper hand. She could not remember how long it had been since that morning when she had left it all for...For what? At times she thought the quest could ultimately be the end, some kind of mid-life crisis, the replenishing of one’s soul and all the rest. The caribou called no less. She rented a room in a place which’s name she could not remember anymore. This will be where it all becomes clear. She had thought.

This is where I go into the mountain.

Her hand ran through the sheets on the bed and came across something. Sting. Cut. Paper cut. No guitar rang, in the usual manner, when disturbed by sudden movements. She assumed he must have left during her sleep. It was a note with her name written on it. His handwriting.

There is nothing here. We lost. Leave this place before it takes you too.  

The note dropped to the floor in one graceful lick. She stared aimlessly, her eyes lost in the thick curtains. A quick breath escaped but she held the rest in and stood, her naked body all silhouettes and shadows against the morning light.

She packed her bag and took one last look at the room. An aura shone all around the edges of the curtain. The mountain had awoken. It’s scorching spirit slipping into every crevice. It called to her.  By the door she kneeled and placed another note, this one written by her, in case he was to ever return. He would not.

She shut the door quietly and walked down the dark corridor. Like that autumn morning. Like so many other rooms before.

Close.