The man stood on the bank, returning the water caught is his bag back to the stream. Precise control was necessary to drain the sack without
losing any of the items. Even so, several objects slipped out. The man tried to recover them, but they were lost to the flow, as if their time
with the man had been merely a brief interlude, momentarily caught eddy-like in their inexorable journey.|
No one knew the source or destination of the river, it was unexplored by intent. This was probably due to the nature of the items found in it. Unnatural, inexplicable and always novel. The advent of their first appearance in the stream was now only a dimly remembered legend, lost to even the most ancient elders. The multitudinous strangeness of these objects was clear to all in the village. It was a primal certainty they shared and for the most part shunned with fear. Only the interceptors were haunted by their mystery. They risked their lives in daily pursuit of strangeness.
All images and text copyright ©1996 by Mark Thornally.