It was hard to consider what one’s fears where when one lived in several different moments in time? You coulees only go by the unsupervised cocktail of animal instincts. Show a burning ouch to a horse or a dog and try to judge its reactions? Is it fear on a leel that occasions no contemplation beyond that of a sensory overload in nostrils, eyes and the overheating of flesh bound nerve? Or does something else enter into it creating even greater confusion through a sense of attraction to one’s own destruction? All these questions answerable only through enduring the experience and coming out sufficiently unscathed enough to relate them in the clarity of reminiscence.
The apartment’s windows were somewhat like the ones that I currently recall from the dormitory at school as it pertained to the view yet higher up according to the configuration of the room in a salutary sense to the former. I lay upon a horizontal dais in full view of the weather which though sunlit revealed the turbulence of approaching storms fostering magnificent funnel clouds of immense proportions. They were of a kind that one was mesmerized by. So much so that their meandering allowed one to consider them and their aesthetic too long so that their menace could suddenly shift and threaten the chaos of impending destruction several eye blinks later. A set of three came up to my window playing with my terror freezing me in place so thoroughly that I might have been rendered immobile beneath a massive weight the way my struggles were so inconclusive. There was a wrecking ball within each swinging on the end of a pendulum threatening to small through the picture window glass. I contemplated their possible damage to body as my soul jumped about wondering if it was unexpectedly scheduled to depart. Each time it missed. By the third impending funnel I had metered enough will to resurrect my frozen flesh to send it in full retreat down across the sands of where I had once vacationed nearer the equator to shiver by some small oar managed fishing boats. Those in charge seemed indifferent as another brace of funnels stretching up far above to the simmering turbulence of dusty reds and yellows in confusion. Two more engines of nature rushed up towards me knee deep past the water’s edge to make a claim on my mortality. But each time they fizzled. No explanations. scientific or otherwise explaining the fickleness of the phenomena?
The experience transcended almost immediately to a small startup companies’ boardroom where plans for the growth of something new that was being devised had absorbed all the attentions of several much younger than I was. I was merely an interloper observing their ambitions for whatever it was worth. Chaos arrived this time in the form of a sail-like banner that was under tremendous gravity to break apart and collapse. The dynamics now recalled seems incidental as the thing could only serve as a visual analogy of a bygone technology of the past. Yet there was the collective force of great concern that almost of itself supported the mighty thing as if by a common sense of wills. I had already been rendered emotionally impotent and useless in such exercises by the most immediate previous experience. I craned back my head along with the others and saw the horizontal mast vibrate the tackle on the end almost to the point of snapping trying to hold the heavy cloth aloft. Such was the power in both cases of the wind. The subtle puff of that gesture by that ethereal presence about us that we serve for as a diversion to the boredom of an endless eternity. The mare of the night in full possession of these facts but ever unable to speak them intelligibly.