'begin the beguine'
"ADAM FANTASY CONTEST ENTRY"
Prehistory of us - you and me. Maybe.
It was a night begat of stars. The little group of seekers rode far out into the desert; away from the lights and the neon of Burning Man; towards the lonely 'dust fence' that bordered the barren landscape, in hopes of seeing the cosmos, meteor showers, planets, satellites.
They were drawn towards a small beacon, shimmering where the night met the soft dust of the playa. It seemed so far away. It played with them, like a mirage, as they rode nearer. They thirsted for enlightenment.
"Believe in more than you can see" was on a tiny sign as they came closer. "Remember the night we drew" brought them to the portrait. "Taste it up"; "Come within" - were messages that rained and swirled within the glowing frame, inviting and alluring; pulsating to a seductive, trance-like beat of a heart having sex. Nirvana.
They dropped their bicycles and hurled themselves through the frame. Whatever the outcome, it would build upon the structure of their souls. They just knew. What happened inside cannot be explained. Their DNA was changed. They became followers of the creature from Planet Fierce - this was all they could say.
Yes, they returned. Adorned in blue and black; fluorescent leggings and feathered top hats; vests and topcoats and fingerless, studded gloves; hummingbird and rabbit skull jewelry; turquoise and ivory; embroidered jackets; and even leather-laced pants and boots with curled toes. Hardly recognizable, they floated home like confetti, before disappearing in the dust.
They know. They wait, they wonder, they imagine. Imagine the tempest of a boy who is here. A boy who cried; whose wailing filled his lungs with the yearning voice of the different, the shunned. Clear notes, bringing attention to joy and longing and purpose and honesty. A boy who, in this desert of unknowing, discovered his destiny and his path. He will bring the world to its knees.
His followers, who wear the clothing of 'the first', understand one another in a visceral way; a way that can only be explained in the twisted construct of the essence of beginnings. Broken open, they are. Anticipating, expecting, and assured that the boy who begat the man is here, just asking for trust in him. He has always known. Shhhhh. Patience. Like the grasshopper before winter. Shhhhh.
nic42!!!
