Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt caged#writephoto presented a few intriguing choices. My imagination was weaving all manner of strange scenarios; most of them clothed in dark and ominous threads. I’m like that you see, inclined to walk down strange roads in a literary sense. The photo brought up an image immediately of windswept moorland, a crossroads, a three headed dog and a mysterious woman. Not any mysterious woman draped in black. This is one who haunts the crossroads in many worlds. This is one we hope never to meet if we are unready. It seems the one in the cage is one of the unready. What a misfortune I think. How barbaric I think. What’s your name I ask him. Surely not Æthelred? Is this a good time for jokes my conscience reminds me. The cage looks unyielding, as does the look on the prisoner’s face. Do we go to meet our fate embittered and hopeless? The wind in this desolate place speaks of only fear. Its voice carries a warning. Something is approaching. She comes soon, She comes soon. This is no time to be curious, run and don’t look back.
What is the caged one hoping for as he stands trussed like a chicken? You may think this an inappropriate remark to make under the circumstances, I’m only stating what I see. What fevered mind created this contraption of humiliation and death? There’s a sense of heaviness upon the soul of this poor creature, it calls to the the woman in black who stirs from the infernal regions. She makes her silent way on roads few care to travel, luminous daughter of Titans. It seems we’ve lost sight of the true face of this torch bearer. We call her hag, demon, nightmare. Uneasy are the feelings she evokes, this far sighted one. The lost and forgotten are her children. Does she come for this lost one I ask myself.
The sound of the wind is cut through by the mournful cry of hounds. This is no time to be curious, run and don’t look back. The dusk becomes brighter, if that’s at all possible. We’re standing in a twilight world now, where things are never what they appear to be. Reality shifts like windblown sand dunes. Can you sense her now lost one? She’s offering purification and he’s offering expiation. Something is approaching. She comes soon, She comes soon. The wind repeats this litany again and again. A bright light approaches slowly from the distance. Hekate comes with her three headed hound. Hekate comes with her three faced mask. Dare I stay? This is no time to be curious, run and don’t look back.