Omaio

The car carries me in after dark under an umbrella of relentless rain. Moments later, moving with stealth amidst the panther-black clouds he appears. I am not yet aware of the danger. Intermittent sheet lightning the colour of the hottest part of a flame begins to flicker like a dying light bulb, every 30 seconds or so. The hairs on my bare arms are electrified and I look down at them curiously. There is an ominous rumble from out to sea, searching, hungry and I feel my stomach clench. The rain, its comforting laughter, subsides, subdued. A bird calls out a strangled warning from the bushes, but it is too late. He seizes her, smothers her with furious energy, each cataclysmic barrell of thunder pounding into her and leaving her panting. Only a listless whimpering drizzle is left in the shocked stillness between each attack. My own breath quickens as he takes another deep inhalation of thick sodden silence. He moves off murderously along the coast, striking out again, and again, dragging her with him. Why does he despise her so? The sky is thick ebony, oily, choking. Trees stand captivated with fear, enflamed in each devilish lash of light. And then he is finished, releases her, drops her unmoving to the floor. The air is hot and musty and eerily quiet. The thunder calls out a mocking farewell in a foreign sky. A slight breeze stirs, with a gentle, reassuring touch attempts to rouse her. The shivering moon emerges from behind the clouds, and begins to timidly lick her wounds, illuminating silvery droplets (tears? sweat? blood?) on the overgrown paddock.

The drinking is in full swing - the men oblivious to the desecration that has just occurred. Or perhaps they are toasting the pillage. Smokey eye-stinging campfire, seat-less long-drop, rum. I turn my back on it all feeling alienated and exhausted, step calf-deep into the wet grass, surrendering my own form into the peaceful expanse of night. I look up at the stoic mountains, bordered in a soft feminine blue light and feel my gaze returned with maternal empathy and I am struck by the painful realisation of vulnerability and impotence that she has known for aeons.