• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 07


‘A huge cloud rose up and nearly swallowed me,’ said the fifth blind man. A lull descended over the seven men huddled together under the raised apse of the basilica. He was the second to last blind man to tell his tale, just as the wind outside tore through the trees with inflated bellows.

‘It plunged on us suddenly after the crack from the mountain,’ he continued in a husky voice, and then the fifth blind man cleared his throat. His voice became husky whenever he was tense. ‘Like a pillar of light that seemed to thrust through the ceiling and melt into the moonlight coming through the windows.’

The second blind man was someone else who lost his sight that day and every now and again, while listening he would pull his tunic up around his neck and shake his head as if agreeing with what was said.

‘It was a terrible day, that day my wife was taken from me. My last image of her was immobilized, in the dark corner of the room. Her cracked, dehydrated body twitching in silence.’

He paused.

‘I then looked up at the ceiling and through the dust, millions of flicking lights sparkled like the silver surface of a lake. My eyes at that moment grew dark forever, but then suddenly she was there, beaming with her beautiful smile and making no lament.’