Fall
by
goeswith3faces


Fall.
Leaves are falling, one by one.
The leaves changes its colour, the world its face �


He is one of the last who remembered life in the old times.

In the language of his people they called him �Thunder-Heart�, but now they call him only �Heart�, because nobody is interested anymore in speaking the language of his own folk. All his friends were gone with the wind, so that he is the only one left.  His hair is white now, like new snow. His eyes are tired and his eyesight will leave soon.  He sits in the shadow of the old trailer and smokes a cigarette. He bought the trailer a long time ago when he was young, from the money he earned at the rodeos. Not far away from this place he took part at his first Sundance. The scares on his chest had been from the three Sundances he took part at and a smile hushes over his wrinkled face by remembering that time. In his mind he hears the rhythm of drums and the high sound of the eagle bone whistles.

Now there�s a highway next to this sacred place and the young people enjoying themselves by drinking and car races. He heard that some of them take something which is called �cocaine�, to make them feeling better and stronger.  He shakes his head by thinking about it.  In white man�s time, everybody makes everything to become better than others. But when everybody is better, who is left to be good?  The old man goes into his trailer, which he calls home, to take a nap. Thoughts like this makes him tired and the young people said it doesn�t matter anymore that he is not able to understand the new time.  Maybe they are right, he thinks, knowing his time will come soon, when he will ride at the wind to the sky.


Fall.
Leaves are falling,
one by one.
The leaves changes its colour, the world its face ...


~ goes-with-three-faces ~
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