The Walled Garden

“The darkness outside was a measureless void, and he feared that the train was too deep in it to be able to return safely. He tried to concentrate on the noise of the wheels, but their rhythm was eccentric and only served to distract him and keep him awake.

The Mountain Town

“Every morning he began work without greeting anyone, filled his buckets and scooped the water out with his hand as he walked along the paths, as if nothing else existed apart from this garden and this work.

They kept the canoes in close formation, close enough to throw snatches of song as each other and laugh at the replies. The travellers sat silently for the most part, troubled by the immensity of the water and the strong men in whose hands their lives lay. Most of them were not swimmers, even though their homes were by the sea. Their feet would cross a lifetime of mountains and plains but still retreat hurriedly from the hissing times which washed their shores.

The Gates of Flame

“After a few days they knew they were close to the lake. The light ahead of them looked thicker, softer with the burden of water below. The thought of the lake made everyone happier.

They kept the canoes in close formation, close enough to throw snatches of song as each other and laugh at the replies. The travellers sat silently for the most part, troubled by the immensity of the water and the strong men in whose hands their lives lay. Most of them were not swimmers, even though their homes were by the sea. Their feet would cross a lifetime of mountains and plains but still retreat hurriedly from the hissing times which washed their shores.