About Me
2 Stories by Anthony Mora From THE RESURRECTION OF LIGHT
An Art Novel
by Rachel Tribble and Anthony Mora
ILLUMINATION
They sat staring out as the light faded.
It's cold, she said. A long trek down. We should go.
I've seen this before, he said.
Not fair. You promised you'd never been here.
I've seen this exact view, except,
Except?
Except out there at the edge, at the horizon there was a rush, like an ecstatic stampede.
A stampede?
Animals, thousands, racing towards the light, flowing like an illuminated river.
And I watched for hours. It was here.
The light drew them. And it never stopped. It was continuous.
We sat and waited and watched.
We?
He was sitting where you sit now.
He?
He was silent, motionless. He just sat with me.
And the horizon stretched forever. The light drew them and everything between the earth and the sky seemed to blaze.
I must sound like and idiot, he said with a smile. He started to stand. Come on. Out here the temperature drops with the sun. Let's go.
She took his hand.
Let's stay,
and wait
and watch.
HANDS
You're so far away, she said.
Moving towards him, she playfully slid her hand past his waist.
He sat up.
We were in Mexico with my aunt, he began, grabbing and stilling her hand.
The day was heavy.
The heat pressed down.
I was five.
My sister, who was eight, took my hand.
We ran across the dirt road to a park.
Squat, heavy, dark-eyed women with long braided hair
sold food from broken, wooden carts.
My sister hurriedly pulled me towards a crowd.
Escaping my aunt, we maneuvered through long skirts,
snaked past thick waists held by silver-buckled belts.
A small-conjoined animal, we traveled to the center.
There it stood, perched on top a long poll.
In Spanish it spoke with a sorrowful, tearful wail
Soy adultera! it cried. Mira me!
It had the body of an owl, the head of a woman.
It paced back and forth,
gripping the poll with dark talons.
Look at me! it screamed, glaring at us with desperate eyes.
This is God's punishment.
His wrath is unthinkable, unforgiving.
I tried to look away but...That wasn't God's work, she replied.
He paused. Frowning.
Hearing the absurdities of his words.
Doubting his own memory.
It had the face of a woman, he repeated softly
I saw it.
I know you saw it, she said,
resting her hand on his chest.
IMPORTANT MESSAGE, PLEASE READ:
Hello Everyone. Rachel Tribble would like all of you to know how much she has appreciated your support on myspace.
DUE TO THE HIGH VOLUME OF EMAILS AND COMMENTS WE CAN NO LONGER ANSWER ALL OF THEM.
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A new project is slated to be released soon and please visit www.myspace.com/thewishingtreeband for info on when their new CD is coming out and where to get it. Rachel did the cover.
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