September 22, 2010
An Urban Legend.
There. Up there. Yeh see that road up yonder? The caravans go down that road. In the old days, they’d go in a great clatter, and yeh could sit here and watch ‘em. Nowadays, they still go, but they go quiet and hidden-like, and yeh can’t see ‘em even when they pass at noon.
But they ain’t the only things that go down that road. Ain’t never been the only things that go down that high road.
There was ghosts first, back when there warn’t no proper road, just a muddy track the deer’d run down. Then them roadbuilders came up over them hills and paved it, and then there warn’t no ghosts no more, and there warn’t no monsters that could snatch yeh, either. Not if yeh stayed on the road.
Ain’t nobody ever seen a roadbuilder, either. They just came and went, and left a nice stone road behind. Yeh can see the cobbles movin’ on their own whenever they need to. Or maybe yeh just can’t see the roadbuilders. Dunno.
And then there’s what yeh can see on a night like this. If yeh just sit here like this, watchin’ the road, and yer patient-like and don’t spook, yeh might see a glow, like a lantern bobbing. And if yeh wait, it might get bigger, and just when yer thinkin’ it’s a ghost ready to snatch yeh, the person comes up to yeh and yeh realize she’s this bright tall thing, all over fire.
And if yer real careful and real polite and don’t run off screamin’, she might hold out ‘er hand, and if yeh hold out yers, she’ll tip some o’the fiery light from ‘er palm to yers. But if yeh flinch, she’ll vanish, and yeh won’t get yer light.
But if yer calm and yer steady, yeh can get a palmful of liquid light. Like this.
Watch the high road, boy. And be polite to them that travel down it.
