Horizon of Thought The woman sat on the rock, as she did at the end of each day, and quietly viewed her surroundings. On her lap was a stone, flat sided and slightly abrasive. Her hands worked rhythmically, stroking the shaft of wood back and forth over the stone. The spear tip had already been hardened in the fire, now a sharpness was being created at the tip. She didn’t know why she did it, or how she knew what to do. It was the same with everything in her life. Without memory, or communication, the woman went about her days and nights, living in solitude in the cave behind her, something she had done for a very long time. On this evening, an odd sound caught her attention. A whine, a roar approaching from behind the mountain, caused the woman to lift her head and watch. It never occurred to her to be concerned, she did not know how. Suddenly something new came into view. She had never seen anything like it before. She watched it stoically as it streaked overhead, smoke and flame trailing in its wake. Over the river it went, its altitude ever decreasing, clipping the tops of the tallest trees and disappearing behind the forest. She lowered her head to resume her task, when a loud noise shattered the gentle evening. Shortly thereafter, smoke smudged the sky. The woman cocked her head, listening, then collected up her things and entered the cave to retire for the night. It didn’t enter her mind that something unusual had happened; she went about her normal evening rituals. The last thing she thought before sleep claimed her, was more meat was needed. She thought this in pictures.
In the gathering darkness, five kilometres from the cave, silence descended. A small craft lay, totally ruined and gently burning, providing light for the unpleasant scene around it. Three bodies were evident, one festooning a tree, all unconscious. Two women, one with dark, curly long hair, the other with striking red hair and a bald man, their uniforms slowly disintegrating on their bodies, as they lay unprotected, revealing injuries and their soft skin to the elements. The craft had skipped twice across an eerily coloured lake, the missing front screen allowing hot liquid to enter in a fine spray, soaking the occupants. Now this liquid was eating their clothing. It would soon attack the skin. The red haired woman on the ground woke first, the stinging of her skin hastening her wakening. Not understanding what was happening, she did what was instinctive and found a small creek nearby and plunged into it, scrubbing herself thoroughly. She then returned to the crash site and dragged the man to the creek and after washing him, went in search of the other woman. It was her moaning that eventually made her presence known. As gently as she could the woman in the tree was lowered to the ground and dragged to the creek to be washed. The man lay where she had left him, still unconscious. Making her companions as comfortable as possible, the woman with the beautiful red hair lay down and wondered, in her shock, where they were.
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