Joah walks along the shore of the Toxian Sea, the hem of her dress dragging in the wet sand, her boots sinking to the heels with every step. The twilight rain drizzles bitter cold as she watches the sea foam wash up crusty chunks of old tar carried along by brown water. She has been unable to sleep, all rest eluding her, so she paces while the first light of weak sun fights the clouds, the upper limb failing to clear the horizon.
She stops where the rock jetty meets the shore, a shiver running through her that does not come from the cold or the rain. The many whispered voices sound inside her. “Come and see…” they say, as she turns slowly toward the pinnacle facing the sea wall. In the distance there stands a black horse, its rider dour, graying and deathly thin. He raises one arm to show a pair of scales in his hand. As he does so, the wails of the hungry and dying fill her ears. The rider locks his eyes with hers and gives a silent, mirthless laugh. “ίππος μέλας,” whisper the voices, “Come and see….”
Read Blue's Dream.
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