He left at night, taking with him a changeof clothes, a blanket, and a
small bag of money which he found in his father's room. He travelled
until dawn and then all of the next day and well into the following
night, pursued by thoughts of his angry and vengeful father. His route
led south towards the holy city, following the roads he knew from the
yearly pilgrimage his family were rich enough to make. The land rose
around him in broken shadows, ragged heights of limestone, sparse
ground, uncultivated andsporadically populated, the occasional
shepherds'village buried in the valleys where goats roamed the scrub.
On the evening of the third day, exhausted and hungry, he stood
watching the sun slip beyond the horizon, casting its last rays over
the broad expanse of a lake. His sense of guilt had not left him but
thoughts of his angry father had ceased to torment him, diminishingin
intensity as the distance from home increased. A mist was rising off
the lake. Grass tufts, long and heavy with seeds, stood dry
andyellow-silvery in the fading light. Autumn flowers thrust their
crowns above the grass, including one of which he did not know the
name, a head of pale trumpets spread out on along stalk, its white
petals glowing faintly in the dusk. A tent flap clattered in the
rising wind and sand drifted across the clearing, driven in little
runs and gusts. He drew the edge of his cloak tighter acrosshis mouth.
The sounds of the caravan he had joined earlier that afternoon were to
his back. He could hear the mutter of conversation. Blue smoke coiled
away from a fire of camel dung. Some of the women were tending a stew
of meat and vegetables.
The sound of feet approaching awakened him. One of the men had
come over to ask if he would like some food. Hefollowed to where a
group of travellers sat in a circle around the fire and ate
gratefully. It was his first meal since leaving home. He watched the
others, theirfaces mostly in shadow, wondering what they thought of
him, a stranger who had come amongst them from the hills. Had they
believed his story about a religious obligation, a prayer answered?
They had accepted him easily enough. They could know nothing for
certain.
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Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Story |- A Prodigal Tale
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