And then there was silence. After the hum and the roar. Once the cataclysm had its final rumbles. It was quiet again. The invasion was over. Retreat was completed. Leonor was the last on the field. She was the last woman standing, surrounded only by fog that covered her ankles. She didn’t know if her blood pressure was playing tricks on her perception. Was the fog real? Had that actually happened? Maybe she wasn’t even there anymore… wherever there was. How had she reached the field in the first place? She had gun powder on her hands and her arms were fatigued. She could hear her heart beating faster and faster. She was disoriented, that is all she knew, when she realized blood was running down her head and neck. Awareness took so much energy out of her, that she passed out, then and there. In the quiet forest, now she was covered by the dense fog. Today on Musing Interruptus, Leonor’s Dreams and Oscillations. Thank you for clicking, thank you for listening.
Leonor woke up in the same place she fainted hours before. Nothing but the fog had changed, you wouldn’t believe you couldn’t see your feet a few hours ago. - I couldn’t see my feet, I’m alone, she thought to herself. I can speak aloud. Probably doesn’t matter anymore, anyway. Was she in a postapocalyptic nightmare or was this really happening? How did she know she was alone? It must be a dream, she thought to herself. Herself. Was there an echo on the field or did the sound come from within? It was dark except for the stars she could see. She hadn’t moved. There was nothing to move, she could not feel anything. She was just aware. She could blink and talk… she was breathing and staring at the stars. Star gazing. She was still overcome by whatever had made her pass out. She had been standing, and the collapsed. She lost consciousness. There is a before, she said out loud. What is the before!? There is silence and a dull feeling between her ears. She can feel her breathing accelerate, lightheaded. I can’t see my feet. I can’t look down. I can’t move. Why can’t I move. I have to remember where I was before. Leonor passed out again.
When she came to again. Her eyes opened and she smelled dew, it was cold. It was the cold that roused her. The coldness of that morning opened a window of consciousness. Yesterday she was in a battle. But not with swords or automatic weapons. It was a battle of some other sort. Internal maybe. She wasn’t sure. The haze was starting to rise, it would cover her eyes soon. She needed to move. She needed help. Why was she all alone in that clearing? She needed to tell her extremities to react once and for all.  It has to be that easy. She could feel gravity pulling her down, she needed to move. The stillness was not welcome anymore. She could feel the rumble of her voice starting to vibrate through her lungs and ribcage, up her throat and out her nose and mouth. Loud and deep, more than a cry for help, confirmation of life. And man, she was alive. She knew it. As she sat up, as if her booming voice had allowed her to waken the rest of her body, she opened her eyes again. She could still hear her screaming voice, but the environment changed. Silence again. Deafening silence. Darkness. She knew where she was. Sitting up in her bed, sweating, with a hoarse throat. She was undoubtedly awake. It had been a nightmare. Leonor would remember the field, and the fog. Would she remember she was immobilized, could she remember what had happened before collapsing on the field? Was she meant to? Continue Reading

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