For a moment it is as she felt a heaviness pull on her, drawing her back into the world of reality. it was hot, painful and breathing seemed near impossible. It was heavy and suffocating, was someone sitting on her chest compressing her breathing she had to wonder. And just as fast she was once more she was back in the nothingness, airless, weightless and floating, now this was more like it, this she could get used to couldn't she? That thought lingered and twisted and turned as her body fought to recover. It was a strenuous battle. Though it was not the first time, but could it be one of the worst times.
This vacillation of conscious and unconscious would swing her back and forth for some time swinging like a pendulum back and forth, up and down. She wanted to push away the hands that bathed her in something cool to bring down the fever, but she couldn't seem to move. She wanted to remove the heaviness that seemed to settle about her chest making it hard to breath but again she couldn't move. It was not just the physical that was impaired but her mind was hazy and cloudy she could not focus. Was the wagon on fire she found herself wondering, she could feel the beads of sweat crawl along her skin, it was itchy she wanted to scratch, but still no movement and no words came.
Various scents lingered in the air about her, she knew them, she could recognize them. Voices, she recognized various ones that seemed to dance in the air. She wanted to yell, Hey, I can hear you. But she didn't. There was only a stillness, though once in a while there would be a strange sound from within the wagon as if something were thrown, but no one was there. Or were they, being around a spex on a good day could make one feel creeped out at times. But sit alone with one that was not quite there and well one began to hear and see things that could make them question their sanity. She could faintly hear voices near her but yet they were so far away. Some spoke of personal things some spoke of tribal things, she could hear and understand even if she couldn't react. Some things did not seem right but she would keep them in her mind. Some things were surprising and yet not really. A few things she would find amusing.
Suddenly there was a faint breeze about her,someone knew to let the winds whisper about her, the wagon flaps had been opened enough to allow the winds to flow about her, it filled her lungs, she could almost see in her mind see the wagon, the way the colors would glimmer in the daylight and even in the night the tapestry of color against the night was an artists dream. That was the beauty of the wagons of the plains, they were large, roomy, air would move about freely and light would illuminate it during the day and the night would allow a cloak of shadows to drape about those within. She could almost see but then it was gone as her brain seemed to be melting into a puddle of grey matter. Well now did that not just suck, she felt like a student once more unable to grasp what she saw. Now this was not amusing. Then she caught another scent.
Now who was it that knew she needed to feel just a hint of the whispers of the wind revealing the knowing, that it would give her pause, she could feel water along her fingers,daring her to not give in to the temptation of the shadows, its cool liquid caress and the fresh scent of the dirt linger against her senses, the balance of it the silence of it, this was home, the hissing and crackle of fire,a force of will to be reckoned with. Some one was near that knew to use all the elements at once to gain her attention. Even beyond the physical form. Alright, maybe she would take a step closer back to the world of sound, light, laughter, pain, darkness, sorrow and yet ultimately all things that made life worth while.
She was savoring the feel of the elements but someone shattered that tranquility, as they in a very masculine, bossy type tone, demanded that she get her ass back and not give up at first she was not sure whose it was, but she really wanted to tell him to be quiet. And yet she wanted to laugh, the audacity of the man.
Now who did he think he was demanding things of her.
Better yet, just whose voice was it?
This vacillation of conscious and unconscious would swing her back and forth for some time swinging like a pendulum back and forth, up and down. She wanted to push away the hands that bathed her in something cool to bring down the fever, but she couldn't seem to move. She wanted to remove the heaviness that seemed to settle about her chest making it hard to breath but again she couldn't move. It was not just the physical that was impaired but her mind was hazy and cloudy she could not focus. Was the wagon on fire she found herself wondering, she could feel the beads of sweat crawl along her skin, it was itchy she wanted to scratch, but still no movement and no words came.
Various scents lingered in the air about her, she knew them, she could recognize them. Voices, she recognized various ones that seemed to dance in the air. She wanted to yell, Hey, I can hear you. But she didn't. There was only a stillness, though once in a while there would be a strange sound from within the wagon as if something were thrown, but no one was there. Or were they, being around a spex on a good day could make one feel creeped out at times. But sit alone with one that was not quite there and well one began to hear and see things that could make them question their sanity. She could faintly hear voices near her but yet they were so far away. Some spoke of personal things some spoke of tribal things, she could hear and understand even if she couldn't react. Some things did not seem right but she would keep them in her mind. Some things were surprising and yet not really. A few things she would find amusing.
Suddenly there was a faint breeze about her,someone knew to let the winds whisper about her, the wagon flaps had been opened enough to allow the winds to flow about her, it filled her lungs, she could almost see in her mind see the wagon, the way the colors would glimmer in the daylight and even in the night the tapestry of color against the night was an artists dream. That was the beauty of the wagons of the plains, they were large, roomy, air would move about freely and light would illuminate it during the day and the night would allow a cloak of shadows to drape about those within. She could almost see but then it was gone as her brain seemed to be melting into a puddle of grey matter. Well now did that not just suck, she felt like a student once more unable to grasp what she saw. Now this was not amusing. Then she caught another scent.
Now who was it that knew she needed to feel just a hint of the whispers of the wind revealing the knowing, that it would give her pause, she could feel water along her fingers,daring her to not give in to the temptation of the shadows, its cool liquid caress and the fresh scent of the dirt linger against her senses, the balance of it the silence of it, this was home, the hissing and crackle of fire,a force of will to be reckoned with. Some one was near that knew to use all the elements at once to gain her attention. Even beyond the physical form. Alright, maybe she would take a step closer back to the world of sound, light, laughter, pain, darkness, sorrow and yet ultimately all things that made life worth while.
She was savoring the feel of the elements but someone shattered that tranquility, as they in a very masculine, bossy type tone, demanded that she get her ass back and not give up at first she was not sure whose it was, but she really wanted to tell him to be quiet. And yet she wanted to laugh, the audacity of the man.
Now who did he think he was demanding things of her.
Better yet, just whose voice was it?
