25: You

You drift across the city, over it and under and through; upstairs and downstairs and in my lady's chamber; and your attention never holds for long. Caught by a little flare of passion here, the glint of a diamond there, you tumble into one role after another, immersing yourself in each for a moment only to be tugged on to the next and the next.

You don't remember who you are or how you got here.

Sometimes it seems as if you can follow a single thread from one scene to another, pick out connections, sense a bigger picture. Sometimes you almost understand its shape before the thread runs out between your imaginary fingers and you are left with nothing but a frayed, unravelling end.

Forget that, and take up another.

Look, over here: someone is calling your name. Whatever your name is, they are calling it. What might they be saying?

"Come back to me, baby. I don't know what to do without you."

You remember that from somewhere; remember saying it, almost. But it has no context, and so means nothing. It slips away.

"If he's more than ten minutes, let's send out a search party."

Have you been more than ten minutes? You have no idea. You find yourself hoping so, hoping someone will come and rescue you, show you the way. Show you who you are and where to go.

"I can show you, ma'am. Yes, I can show you."

But she doesn't. They never do, and soon you forget they were meant to.

You swoop down low over the houses, now, over the rooftops and the alleyways. Voices clamour up from all sides, talking and laughing and pleading. Each is a thread that weaves in and out of the others, winding this way and that, knotting and twisting and tangled, impossible to trace. Each sparkles and sags and wears thin.

Each breaks.

Voices clamour up from all sides. You don't know who you are or how you got here, but neither do they. Slowly it dawns on you that you are simply another anonymous voice in the fugue. Not listening to it, not following the stories, not rising above. Just singing.

"In the threads of Mir-Ghal'ai."

You don't know the words. You don't know the tune. You can't even hear your own voice amongst all the others. It doesn't matter. Sing.

Make it up as you go.
Posted by matt at November 29, 2004 08:53 PM