Blur

G'day. Here's a short passage I wrote in response to this post at creative writing corner.

He walks underneath the soft green foliage with a curious gait. A slow stalking walk, inexorably moving forwards without meaning to; a blur, not of motion, but more blurring in with his surrounds due to the lack thereof.

My eyes seem to be unable to focus on him. I know he is there, but my eyes revolt against his presence. They decide that he is not there, but I know better. Standing below the great oak, waiting for him to arrive. Eyes scanning the surrounds, constantly sure that this is him, that it is more then a trick of the light and my desires.

I wait. Minutes pass. I still wait. Hours pass. I wait, still; still as a stone. I wonder if maybe he is not coming, if I just want him to. If my need for him to arrive has conjured him. The sun sets, and he has still not arrived. When I think about him, my mind draws a blank; details of him skirt my mind like my eyes skirting over the landscape, searching for him. I wait.

Suddenly I hear a noise. I turn my eyes lock onto the movement, as all goes still. I know that something moved. I'm watching the exact spot I saw the branch move. It was this branch, right? This branch? I look closer. No it was that branch. I think.

"Boo!" He hisses from behind me, "Sorry I'm late." He whispers into my ear and I turn around. I see nothing. That's how I know he is here.