Blackness opened into two horizontal slashes of white, fringed with pain. Blink. Blink. White faded to blurred grey rafters of a wooden roof above where he lay. I rolled my head to the side and drew a breath as my eyes focussed on the wrecked remains of what may have been a man some weeks ago. A smile spread across my mouth as I took a small blade from my belt and carved a small line on my breast. Four other cuts lay beside their new neighbour, each older than the next and fading to white.
I sat up and hauled myself to my feet, bones and muscles protesting at the effort. The room swam and washed with colours then tilted sharply to the side like a ship sinking and something struck the side of my head. Black letterbox again, and floorboards filling my vision. Did I fall over? Where’s my stave? Rough boards rasped at my fingers as my hand sought their familiar place and wrapped around the wood. I nodded confidently and dragged myself upright once more. Something oozed from my ear, black and stagnant blood crusting against my cheek. Since when did I tire so fast? Carefully, like a newly hatched spider, I regained my feet and leaned gratefully on my stave as the room shook from my trembling. ‘Time to leave this wretched place’ I rasped and cast a handful of salt through the air and reached to the flask of oil at my belt. Several splashes later and a satisfactory fire was set in the rotting timbers of the house; crackling flames licking at the sky above the wreckage behind me. Mustn’t linger here, already much absence to explain upon my return. Step by unsteady step the road ahead lurched towards me as uncounted seconds marked the beginning of my return to the House.
