Six

At first it was blurry, and then it became clear. The singing was still there. The face I saw had arching eyebrows and a serious look. The eyes were small and round like almonds, the skin was the color of a freshly powdered face. Then the singing stopped and the face came closer to mine, almost touching it.

“She is awake now.”

This person shouted to someone I was not seeing, someone who must be sitting away from me. I saw the hair, full, wavy and unrestrained. It had the color of leaves in the fall. My eyes looked around. There was the ceiling made of wood, and I tried to move my head but I couldn’t. It seemed to me it was stiff, held by some unseen factor. I made to get up but pain racked through my head like lightning; I fell backwards.

“You had a concussion. You should rest. Or are you in a hurry to go somewhere?”

I didn’t say a thing. She took her face away and continued singing. The song was piercing and sad and spoke of a long lost country, more like my story. I listened in qu