Stars form a galaxy

In the wide lavender expanse above me

Darkness drools and savages fling stone tipped arrows

I arrange to meet the shaman of the hill tribe

Decked out in bush-branches, face smeared with pigment, he guides me up the tributary

I hold a lantern as we march

The mood turns somber as the glistening rain-soaked leaves rustle shockingly loudly, as if they were possessed

I am getting out of here

Only he grabs my ankle forcefully -- glares at me and sings a hill-people chant

.

I type on my computer

The crickets in the dark know nothing at all about me

I remain trapped in the game I said I'd finish

Knowing nothing about the ins and outs of the world beyond what I've been able to glean

It's an exquisite solitude I'm told