06 August 2005

A miracle


Animal hides pulled high around their necks, they wore their hair long and unkempt. This unwashed huddle hunkered down on haunches. Forming a circle twelve-strong they watched attentively the stranger in their midst. Craning their necks to get a better view, black eyes darting nervously from the stranger’s face to his slim, graceful fingers. A murmur of guttural tones greeted his preparations.

Watery afternoon sun slanted across sinew, tendon and weather-beaten flesh. Their primitive intellects had been promised a gift and they would settle for no less. He knelt at their centre, this tall man of athletic build, this elemental magician, this modern Prometheus, an old man of twenty seven summers, blue-eyed and blonde, brow knitted in concentration.

Bark prised from a dead tree limb lay before him. In it he had gouged a neat hole just big enough to admit a fingertip. Into the hole he inserted one end of a short straight stick. He began rubbing the stick between his flattened palms, spinning it in the hole and the men watched curling wisps of grey smoke. His drilling produced hot, powdery sawdust which glowed cherry red when he blew on it. From a fold in his hide he deftly withdrew a dry cottonseed head. He touched this to the embers and it too glowed brightly.

His pursed, thin lips blew harder. A sudden flare appeared as the cotton ignited. Sounds of astonishment greeted this development but ignoring his audience he dropped the blazing cotton onto a pile of dry leaves. The onlookers flinched and retreated a pace at the first burst of fire. Now he propped twigs around the crackling magic and new flames licked them hungrily. Larger branches were ferried to him and he arranged these tent-fashion around the flickering fingers of orange and yellow.

Thick blue smoke wrapped the heap for a moment but soon red tongues darted through, hissing and snapping, burning and returning plant life to dust. The small crowd gazed in awe and wonder as green timber crackled and spat diamond sparks.

A stranger had entrusted this band with a device of heat and light and destruction. It would shape civilisations as an influence for good and evil, industry and warfare. Drawn to the epic power of the display no one noticed the magician was no longer among them. When at last heads turned and scanned the distance, a plume of dust betrayed his position on the horizon. He walked barefoot, a small hide bag on his shoulder. In it he carried cottonseed and a short straight stick.

High above him a shooting star streaked like fire across the twilight sky.

19 comments:

superflywebpimp said...

torso crouched, jaw protruding, on wobbling leathered office chair i hop and grunt, slapping my screen with primordial grunts of appreciation.

Jen said...

Hey, I've missed you.

Patry Francis said...

I'd like to read more of this. Didn't want it to end.

{illyria} said...

i loved how every masterful word contributed to the unforgettable finale.

Perfect Virgo said...

Superfly - now I have a mental image of you adopting a primitive stance and engaging in chest-beating! All this juxtaposed with the anachronism of your PC screen.

Jen - I missed you too, are you back now?

Finn - a nice review my friend. I was particularly interested in the way you compared the scenes with film footage. I always try to create a moving image for the mind's eye and I think you saw this one.

Yes, a 'benevolent ghost' sums up his presence and unsen departure. (Glad you made it down the tower safely.)

Patry - I am still testing a variety of subjects and styles. I am so glad you think this one may have succeeded. (Getting the length of a short piece just right is hard to judge.)

Transience - I put a lot of thought into this and scraped off as many superfluous words as I could. As the subject was elemental I felt the language should be suitably concise.

JJ said...

You are a miracle!
Peace,
JJ

Perfect Virgo said...

JJ - you are beautiful!

Grace said...

Great piece PV. The thing that occured to me is how did they come to find rubbing sticks made fire? I mean if you dont know what fire is, why would you rub sticks together? I'm just daft! :-)

Perfect Virgo said...

Grace - odd isn't it? I did a bit of reserch and nobody seems to know. Early man saw fire occurred in nature (Lightning strikes, forest fires etc...) and must have worked out how to copy it. Friction definitely produces a lot of heat!

gulnaz said...

wow, i am so impressed by the excellence of your writing!

Grace said...

AH HAAA! Finnegan, you may indeed have something there! The first eureeka moment? HISstory, very good indeed. A message for Finnegan there PV, there seems to be a spate of people hijacking others blogs for a chat! Have a look at the party we had at Kennys place on Saturday, it was a riot! LOL :-)

Perfect Virgo said...

Gulnaz - thank you for such a lovely compliment. I am glad you liked this one.

Finn - "inspiration in his lab hut!" Well I've heard it called some things!

Dionysius - purely a descriptive piece this one. I feel they were inspired by naturally occurring fire rather than Finn's shaman, but it's a nice image to hold.

Grace - hijack away, I don't mind! Some of your conversations are more entertaining than my posts! I just read Saturday's party - you rascals!

Grace said...

Never PV your posts are always extremely entertaining. Do you want a Gmail email account? I have invites to give away, let me know?

Perfect Virgo said...

Grace - what do you reckon? Do I need one? I have a Hotmail e-mail... I'll have one if it benefits you!

Grace said...

PV it benefits me not, I think it might attract less spam than a Hotmail account. I will send an invite anyway you can decide!

Russell CJ Duffy said...

i love the air of mystery that surrounds the witchman vodoo king. just who the hell was he? where does he come from? is he in reality of another time or indeed another somewhere else? appearing and disappearing as though part of the mist of legend. beautiful tale.

Perfect Virgo said...

Grace - thanks, do send me an invite!

Finn - "backroom banter" between chums, a fine pastime indeed! We think then speak, we are thinkers here...

CJ - fire seems such a precious thing I wanted to convey the sense it might have been a gift. I dropped hints that the stranger may not be of the same race to fuel speculation. What was his mission, where did he come from? I like loose ends...

Perfect Virgo said...

Dionysius - we're stuck in the system I guess. The only 'honesty' about working for a despicable company is the knowledge we are not spongeing off the State. It's the same elsewhere I'm sure, but in the UK our welfare system encourages young girls to have babies at 16 because they will be given an appartment and a weekly cheque. Now that's what I call really dishonest. I see dozens of them out shopping, pushing prams with their little DSS passports snuggled up inside.

That's what seperates us thinkers from the crowd, we look beneath the surface. Hmm, maybe I should launch a criminal career?!!

Perfect Virgo said...

Flea - I watched a short TV documentary recently and was amazed at the simplicity of creating fire. I began to wonder if man developed the idea or was taught it - far-fetched I know. I had a mental picture I was trying to paint with words. I think it's recognizable.

I'm vegetarian so fat and gristle are always off the menu!!