The white wind, cold and nippy rushed callously into my little room on the gentle slope by the river side, waking me from the farthest place of my slumber. Tired as I was, I slipped out of my
warm Danish bed and out to the vast darkness of my room and towards the
opened French window that had so let the cold wind in. I stood by the
window hoping to seal the cold night wind away, but then I lingered for a
moment. What kept me by my window that unusual was evident to me and me alone. The night was grey, it felt still and passive, no sound could be heard, not even the crickets, the ever busy night beetle nor the frogs by the lake, nothing seemed to move except the cold white wind that blew and it made no sound. The moon hung in the sky like a crystal in a lake; it was enchanting as it was binding. Its light beamed so brilliantly in the night skies yet it did nothing about the grey darkness that spread in every direction. I stood by my window looking lustily at the colossal guardian of the night, taking in its unrelenting radiance when I heard a sound behind me. So I turned to see with my eyes what had stirred me from the captivation of the moon, and there, right there in the darkness of my room I saw a pair of yellow eyes. The eyes seemed to see through me and on into the endless vacuum of eternity.
“Oh, it’s only you.“ I said to the four legged creature that was my cat. Like me my cat had awoken when the cold white wind blew and he too was savoring the magnificence of the moon.
I again turned to catch one last glimpse of the moon before returning
to my bed and that was when it began. Out of the silence of the grey
darkness, I heard wolves begin to howl. First it was a rhythm-less array
of wild noise echoing through the grey night, but then, the cold white
wind began to blow and then it became a howl no more, it was the most
beautiful sextet I had ever heard until that cold grey night.
When the wolves had had their own for the night, the stillness that followed was deafening, so deafening it was I was sure I had lost my hearing until I heard my cat meow. I lingered a moment to see if the wolves of the woods will return to their orchestra, but they did not. Everything in the grey night was quiet and still until I heard laughs of little children out in the woods beyond the river. I pressed my face into the night hoping to see the happy children in the cold night, but I saw no happy child, I saw a ghost.
Like the wind, I watched as she floated peacefully through the cold grey night when the wind was white and cold…towards my window.
“Come with us dear friend who savors the beauty and tranquility of the night,” She said when she reached my window, “come, let us play by the river this cold dark night and marvel at the radiance of the moon.”
“Sorry ,” I said, “I have to return to sleep now, for I must rise early before the cocks crow.”
“A pity it is then, but perhaps another cold grey night.” She said.
She was the most peaceful creature I had ever laid my eyes upon for she beamed in her softness and ghostly beauty. The sweetness of her voice set, the rest on her face – all sang a quiet song to be. Her hair flowed gracefully behind her like ripples in calm waters, her flowing gown beamed like the moon but in her feet there were no shoes. So I asked her why she wore no shoes, and she said; “Ghosts wore no shoes on cold grey nights when the white winds blew”
And then she said to me, “Good night then dear friend, I hope to see you again when the night is grey and the white wind blows.”
I watched her go, the same way she had come…with the wind. I took a deep breath of the cold grey night, one last look at the moon, closed my window and returned to the warmth of my bed.
WRITTEN BY BY AYO ABEJIDE
When the wolves had had their own for the night, the stillness that followed was deafening, so deafening it was I was sure I had lost my hearing until I heard my cat meow. I lingered a moment to see if the wolves of the woods will return to their orchestra, but they did not. Everything in the grey night was quiet and still until I heard laughs of little children out in the woods beyond the river. I pressed my face into the night hoping to see the happy children in the cold night, but I saw no happy child, I saw a ghost.
Like the wind, I watched as she floated peacefully through the cold grey night when the wind was white and cold…towards my window.
“Come with us dear friend who savors the beauty and tranquility of the night,” She said when she reached my window, “come, let us play by the river this cold dark night and marvel at the radiance of the moon.”
“Sorry ,” I said, “I have to return to sleep now, for I must rise early before the cocks crow.”
“A pity it is then, but perhaps another cold grey night.” She said.
She was the most peaceful creature I had ever laid my eyes upon for she beamed in her softness and ghostly beauty. The sweetness of her voice set, the rest on her face – all sang a quiet song to be. Her hair flowed gracefully behind her like ripples in calm waters, her flowing gown beamed like the moon but in her feet there were no shoes. So I asked her why she wore no shoes, and she said; “Ghosts wore no shoes on cold grey nights when the white winds blew”
And then she said to me, “Good night then dear friend, I hope to see you again when the night is grey and the white wind blows.”
I watched her go, the same way she had come…with the wind. I took a deep breath of the cold grey night, one last look at the moon, closed my window and returned to the warmth of my bed.
WRITTEN BY BY AYO ABEJIDE
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