It appeared two different groups had fought a battle, one group wearing furs and the other wearing clothes that Cindy thought looked like woven grasses. All of the people currently walking around were wearing woven clothes. The fatalities in woven clothes looked like they had been hacked to pieces. A number of them still were impaled with spears. Most of the fatalities though were wearing furs, and Cindy thought just about all of them looked like they had died from gunshot wounds."Could two pistols do all this?! I doubt it. Do other people have guns around here?" Cindy pondered as she stared at the people walking around. "None of these do... Nuts! Are they singing?! How could they sing in a scene like this?!" Cindy watched them quietly as the morning progressed, slowly understanding. "Wow... A singing language... It's so melodic... But what the hell is going on?"Cindy sat on the branch and watched for over an hour, trying to understand the singing language. After a while several of. When I awoke the third time, it was daylight. Martha was walking into the bedroom in her heels. Dressed and ready for work, she came to my side of the bed.She asked, "What on earth were you dreaming about all night?"I turned onto my back, rubbing my bleary eyes. "I was dreaming?"She sat on the bed and rested a hand on my shoulder. "You woke me up several times, moving around."I yawned. "I don't remember any nightmare." Not a nightmare, a dream. Very restless." Yeah? What'd I say?" Nothing. Just a lot of moving around."I shrugged. "Don't remember."Her eyes were concerned and affectionate, like those of the perfect television mom. She leaned toward me and gave my cheek a kiss. Then she got up and started out of the room. "I have to get to work. I'm late, as usual." She blew me a kiss and then hustled through the living room and out the front door.For the rest of the day and the next few days, she made no mention of Ronnie or of Wednesday night.Tension. Formless, headachy tension. It.
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