We had nothing – no clothes, no tools or weapons. We had no age and no
name. apart from a scatter of stones. We were merely a bunch of lost
and single-minded creatures. All we wanted was to suffer less.
Teeth chattering, huddled up one against the other, we were dying of
cold and hunger, shivering in a semi-stupor in our hole under the tree
where we took refuge against the icy winter and the killers above.
Once, delirious, I found myself crawling on my hands and knees,
gnawing every root and creeper I unearthed as I dug about blindly.
Dragging myself deeper and deeper, swallowing lethargic worms and
crunching jittery bugs, I lost myself in our underground labyrinth.
Unable to recall how I ended up in the alien caverns, I howled and
howled for help, but only my eerie echoes replied.
For ages, I clambered over slabs of rock, slithering on my stomach,
eeling my way through dark passages. Exhausted, I was about to lay my
bony ribcage on the ground and let myself freeze to death when I saw a
patch of light. Pushing and pulling, I hauled myself into a vast cave
where daylight came through a wall of frost. I was too numb to realize
I was standing behind a frozen waterfall.
Sprawling on the cold
surface, I was watching the daylight filter through the ice shield,
marveling at the shiny stalactites, when a white pebble bounced in my
direction on the bumpy floor and came to rest beside my face. Looking
around, I noticed it was a tooth, large and sharp. Unintentionally, my
arm shot up and my hand seized it. While I felt it in my fingers, I
experienced an amazing perceptiveness. Visions descended like snow. As
soon as I remembered who I was, I felt the angel’s presence. At once,
anger took hold of me and, spinning on my heels, I flung myself on him.
Trapped inside the cave man, I yearned to yell my hatred, to wrap my
hands around his neck and strangle him, inflict him as much pain as I
could until he would confess where he held her prisoner, but my lips
were unable to utter a word, my limbs were without strength… Standing
in front of me, Gabriel raised his hands before him and stopped me in
my tracks.
« There is not much
time, beloved. We shall speak another day. Do what must be done. »
Unable to decide, I
did not move, torn as I was between my urge to question him and make
him suffer, and my desire to obey him, for, deep inside me, I knew he
was right.
Kneeling beside a
wall of sedimentary rock, I found a piece of quartz the size of a fist
and set upon carving our story with the keen-edged stone. I heard the
beating of his wings while I struck frenetically at the rock, for fear
of not finishing before my fleeting consciousness left me. Later, well
after he had gone, in a trance, shaking and mumbling, I furrowed the
first three parts of our story.
The first picture represented two petals. In the second, I had
sketched two stick figures
flying top to tail in a circle;
the last resembled an angel standing in the middle of a ring. When I
stepped back and stared at the frescoes, I no longer knew what they
meant or who I was. I flung the stone at the carvings and dashed away
on all fours, screeching.