I’m not sure Rahul believes me when I tell him I’ve been speaking to the sky. I’ll have to write in here instead, and see if I can figure it out myself. The message that is. And how it happens, I suppose. Just in case they need to know. Just in case this is the only record left of it.
Last night, the strangest thing occurred. I was woken around midnight by a hollow clicking from the sky. A cross between a tock and Xhosa. As if some deity was calling me home. Or trying to bring me back. The sounds went on for a confused minute, and I sat up to attention in a manner which belied any sleep I may have tried to recover. I waited for them to return, but it was in vain. All I could do was strain my mind and recollect them from the time that had passed, in the hope that they still might hold the same meaning and the same words. One’s I would have to decipher. Perhaps tonight.
Tom would have helped.
