As he thought

as he watched for

the Hermit

emerged

He came out of the Light

the Light paled  browned  broke

into odd pieces

and from the pieces ran red sparks  insects          things viable

                                                                                                            they ran on crazy

lines  left dull tracers and ventured no further  it seemed  than they wanted to

some more brazen and farflung than others                                                                                  

this dazzling writhing and blown dandelion then shuddered
and began to collapse                                                                                                                returning
tumbling back on itself as erratically as the motes had blown away
 

the browning lessening

                     by degrees  coalescing   the Light restored its diamondwhite brilliance 

except at its center

there was an impediment                                                                                                                                      

a pitched black silhouette

to either side of it

wings began to unfurl

and rise

no

sharp  hard white incidences began

inside the wings

pointing to its center

uncurling

talons

no

fingers

they radiated by degrees outward

and grasped

they grasped at edges of something

a hood

fingering it

like a babe  rubbing it

disbelieving it

then suddenly in concert  hands now  they snapped it

and the hood the shroud enveloped the whole of Light momentarily

then it                                                                                                                                               like the dandelion

deflated

and the Light obliged                                                                                                                            falling into and painting  shadowing  its corrugations

fallen

it resembled a disk

a halo

around

the Hermits head

and the Hermit

anointed

turned His head from side to side as if examining to what extent it would turn

He bowed His head

touched His chin to His chest

He craned His head back

where beyond the folds of His hood he could make out the contempt of His beard

its unruly gnarled outgrowth

a fetish of curly nerveendings

then   a massive ribald shaking of His skull

convinced it was connected and intact

He then ceased shaking His head

two marbled sparking points inside the hood rose   and became fixed

stared

on him

knowing him

remembering him

they took each other in

sitting across a gulf of purple night

Ruminating

a long  long time from when they sat across a fire or hearth from each other and talked 

he hadnt gone anywhere

the Hermit returned

there wasnt an attitude He couldnt or wouldnt assume

he made his move

he had only to wait

for the Hermits move

thats how every game is played

1245,  Thursday,  24  7. 14