| đź•– 2 Minutes | Artwork: Cover Art Guy

The siren called beyond the treeline with another one for the caves and in the tarn beyond those birches there’s a spirit that I crave

„Black Water“ by Timber Timbre

You’re wondering why it’s so dark already. You sit in the car and tune in the radio, until you find a decent station that fits your mood, sneaking around the serpentine curves, which lead into a conifer forest.

You feel somewhat strange, dizzy. Like you just woke up and didn’t eat all day, your stomach feels weak, your legs start shaking a bit. Can’t even think about food now. As you take the next endless curve you start wondering about where this fog is coming from, but can’t find any clues because you have never been in this remote area. The only light comes from the headlights and the moon, that just disappeared, just like the trees. Suddenly, just barely visible in the fog there’s a deer from afar looking at you, just on the right side of the road. As if it’s been waiting just for you to pass. Does it want to cross the road?! You take the foot off the speed pedal.

Just the ground
On which we stand
Is the darkness
Ours to take?
Bathed in lightness
Bathed in heat

“Suspirium” by Thom Yorke

Then it stops.

You’re staring it in its dark green eyes, they light up for a fraction of a second. You can just recognize it’s eyes anyway, as if it doesn’t have a body. You fail to imagine how big it is. The eyes keep following you and you can feel its stare long after you passed it. The review mirror just shows a gray and black fuzzy nothing.

You keep on staring straight, when the asphalt starts to recede and you can hear the gravel hitting the downside of the car as you keep following the curves further uphill… it’s almost as loud as the music so you turn up the volume and keep driving. The more you slow down the car, the more your pulse rate goes up.

Hey man, you know
you’re never coming back
Past the square, past the bridge,
past the mills, past the stacks
On a gathering storm comes
a tall handsome man
in a dusty black coat with
a red right hand

„Red Right Hand“ by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Your phone, that’s on the passenger seat, lights up. The message reads: “You’re late, man.” As you look up from the screen, you feel the stare from the deer even stronger. Subtle and sore at the same time; like a sunburn, that pulls your attention. “What’s that burn?”, you keep wondering.

(Follow the journey by listening to the playlist below. How does it go on?)