Max dreamt. He was suspended high above the ground in a glass box. He had no idea how long he’d been hanging there but it had been a while, his throat was sore, his back was aching. Two, maybe three months? Anyway, what did it matter this was somebody else’s reality, only a dream to him, but he knew that with the coming of the autumn storms the Band would be on the move again. Time for once was short. By late October sharp and perfectly fashioned tunes of experience would blow into the cities, towns and villages everywhere even the tiny settlements in the borderlands. Nowhere can escape the music and nowhere ever has. Not that he’d been to Nowhere for a while, although he thought he was about due another visit. Things happen in Nowhere; a cat gets run over by a truck, a young woman loses her engagement ring, cancer is diagnosed, a father slaps a child in anger, prayers go unanswered, the leaves fall and rot in gardens and graveyards and both big and small tunes play for suspecting and unsuspecting alike. Yes, the Band would be on the move again, forever and ever, Amen and the Band moves to so many tunes - Wagner, Berry, Godric, Chopin, Zappa, even Miller, tunes composed from strength and direction, places past, souls taken, nefarious needs, those lost things, a lot of hunger… and of course who and what are caught in the music as they play on - and on - and on. Damn this dream! It was making his mind all fuzzy, images popped into his head out of nowhere, words and thoughts losing their sense and meaning and with the Band there’s no choice at all. Both the innocent and the old must listen, young and male, good and black, white and guilty, the bad and female. It’s all musical chance when the Band comes to town and sometimes the bad things catch into the Slip and listen, resting for a while. They have a drink or two, find love, feed, take whatever they need; a cat gets run over by a truck, a young woman loses her engagement ring, cancer is diagnosed, a father slaps a child in anger, prayers go unanswered… and then the Slip catches them up and they are on and away again, (wake up) blowing away, the notes still echoing, (wake up) to the next place. If only it were all a dream and listen - the wind is howling, and beneath the wind that song… Riders on the Storm? (WAKE UP!). Max awoke, the taste of sand in his mouth and the scorch of sun on his skin. That bloody Mourning woman again. Max picked up his sunglasses and donned his snap brim fedora, well if it was good enough for Indiana Jones it was good enough for him. Better be quick and step into the Slip, the music was growing louder. It was time to shift.
To be continued...?
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