Forward

by Julie Olum (Kenya)

A leap into the unknown Iceland

I thought it looked like a butterfly. J said a person mid-tumble diving into the abyss. To T it was three lilies and nobody could tell him otherwise. After a loud silence filled with the strong breeze and its odd flute-like gusts we were happy to agree that it was all three as the soft clouds diffused into each other and settled downwards. They made it look almost cozy, like a tantalizing secret you could only get in on by physically immersing yourself in it. Outside-world common sense said the clouds covered a deep, dark valley and it was best to stay at our safe distance. This world’s instinct asked why does it sound like those whispering flashes are more than just wind and echoes? Before my mind could choose a track there was a firm squeeze on my left forearm and a J-shaped space to my right – he had gone with this world’s instinct and made moves towards the clouds. It felt like shouting after him would make the entire scene disappear so we followed in his exact steps. Feeling like we were being watched. Watched over too, but mostly watched. We met J at the cloud’s edge and joined hands to act on our unanimous decision. Left feet forward, heels down first. Gravely crunch. Right foot. Left again. Look down to see only pearly grey swirling around the ripped knees of my crude black jeans and the two brown hands clutching mine. The one on the left tugged left and I relayed the message to the right. Like a dance, we side-stepped left and right into the path of a screeching black bundle that flew close enough past our faces we all stopped to touch our right cheeks for blood, cuts, flesh, anything. ‘Guess we have a guide with us, gents.’ I heard warm, familiar exhales. Forward it was, then.