Free Intaglio: Dragons All The Way Down by Danika Stone

her. 
    Across from
them, Oliver set the cigarette butt into the saucer at his elbow as he blew
smoke to the side. He rubbed his ragged face.  There were rings under his eyes,
skin waxen.  He wouldn’t be reading any more teacups any time soon.
    “I don’t know
how it happened, Ava,” he said wearily, “but the woman with wings is here, and
you dreamed her, and the voyage ended in death.” He glanced at Cole, voice
hard.  “I know what I saw... and if you dreamt about it and so did Cole, then
it’s obviously done and gone.  So it’s this life you should be thinking about,”
Oliver said, knuckles rapping loudly on the tabletop.  “What to do now should be your focus.”
    There was an
uncomfortable silence and then Oliver glanced to the side as if hearing
something.  Without a word, he got up and headed into his bedroom, returning
seconds later with a dog-eared book.  He flipped through the pages as he
walked.
    Clearing his
throat, he began to read.
    “This could be a
good time. There’s a river flowing now very fast. It’s so great and swift that
there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They
will feel they are being torn apart and they will suffer greatly. Know the
river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off
into the middle of the river, kept our eyes open, and our heads above the
water. And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate...
    “At this time in
history, we are to take nothing personally. Least of all, ourselves. For the
moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey come to a halt...
    “The time of the
lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves! Banish the word struggle from your
attitude and your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred
manner and in celebration...
    “We are the ones
we’ve been waiting for.”
    He glanced up as
he finished.  Ava felt a sense of déjà vu... she’d had a dream once about
another man talking to her about a boat.  He’d told her about the time to head
out into the water, and the time to wait out a storm.  Her throat was tight,
too many emotions under the surface.
    ‘My father died,
leaving us all behind… and I had to choose because of it…’ 
    She blinked and
the almost-memory was gone.
    “Who wrote
that?”  Cole asked.  His voice was raw with emotion.
    “No one knows the
name of the author,” Oliver answered, “it was before the advent of written
language.  It’s a Hopi prophecy about our time.”
    He sat back down
at the table, lifting the cigarette.   He gestured between Ava and Cole, ashes
swirling.  
    Set adrift…
    “This time
around,” Oliver said with a nod, “in this life... the two of you are in the
river together.”
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter 10:  Polaroids
     
    Ava's last
semester of university appeared in a series of flashes.  The first were bright
and intense: Christmas with Cole’s family, the fight at New Year’s, the teacup
reading with her father the night of the Student Show.  Others had the muted
golden hue of 1960’s prints, poignant and wistful.  They were single events
that would someday form a nostalgic illustration of the end of an era. 
    These times
reminded her of the photographs now lining one wall of her studio, random
moments captured in a blur of light and colour.  There were weekends partying
with Chim, Suzanne and Cole at The Crown and Sceptre, late weeknights at the
university print-making lab, trying to adapt the multi-print zinc plate into
ten variations, sharp memories of biting her lip to stay quiet in Cole’s
thin-walled dorm while he moved on top of her.  Individual moments marked the
passage of time.
    Some of the
snapshots on the wall had been developed at the local film shop, though two
strips were from the two dollar insta-booth in the mall – one with her and
Cole, and another with all four of them, squished together in the booth, Chim’s
Marley cap down across his forehead.  Lately a