a surge of energy and numbed my pulsing limbs.
The last barrier would be getting past the other villagers, who would no doubt recognise my goal from the moment I crossed the threshold of their land. Would they welcome a traveller, grow angry or turn away with indifference? I felt a faint memory of guilt at the breach of their taboos, but what I sought was too powerful a lure.
After time had waded back into an abstraction, a cold morning sun peering over the dusty land, something crumpled under my foot; I stopped, swaying. Here at last was a sign of civilisation – a metal can or cup. As my awareness widened, I saw the debris around me had changed to highlight the signs of intelligent life: paper, metal and plastic rubbish strewn around, under and in the trees.
I had seen many planets with life. How was it that none could learn the lessons of Earth? Why was it none took care with their waste?
I kicked the can away sideways and swung forward to continue my walk. I was neither hungry nor thirsty. I was no longer aware of being tired or hurt as the adrenalin of excitement took over.
Huts were painted in out of the morning mist, detail added as I grew closer. Fewer shapes moved between them than I had feared, for I had forgotten the Fricasans late rising habit.
Furtively, I moved between the shelters, seeking my goal. As best I could with my aching ankle, I dodged from sight of the few that made their way around the village.
Finally, a larger building loomed out of the veil of shadow. It was dome-shaped, with a peak on top, adorned with handwritten letters in Fricasan - unmistakable from descriptions I had read. I was here, at last.
I almost longed for the journey to continue, to prolong the anticipation before the moment I discovered what I sought. Looking around me, I felt that Fricasans might appear at any second, that I might lose this opportunity; I was torn between anticipation and satisfaction.
With a deep breath, I began forward, movement before conscious decision. Breath catching, I knocked on the Kissers’ door. I heard the shuffle of movement inside. There was no turning back now; in moments Pandora’s box would be opened.
A Conversation In Modern Myths: