Jane Draycott – That night the whole town

 

Jane Draycott
That night the whole town


That night the whole town dreamed the same dream: a young man entered their rooms, a whirling crown of frozen brow and hair, blue fingers delicate along the streams beneath their skin. When he was done, without a word he turned to go, took up his seal-skins, maps and compass, called his obedient dogs.

At dawn the sleepers viewed the mud and concrete at their windows, all that had surfaced since the frost gave way. Inside their heads the world was white with nothing still to say.