Ravens

We were sitting on a park bench, he and I, exchanging a pleasant conversation of unimportance. In the periphery of my vision I saw a man standing some distance away, straight ahead from where we were sitting. I turned my head to see who it was.

It was him. He was sitting next to me, talking, while at the same time standing at a distance, watching me. I was not at all surprised to find him present at two places simultaneously.

Then I stood up from the bench and turned around. There was a hill against a backdrop of stormy clouds. The hill was literally covered with ravens, hundreds--no, thousands perhaps, fluttering their wings or simply moving about. Not a single one of these black birds was to fly away.

* * * * *

Could it be true that my dreams have some prophetic qualities? This dream of mine was had not last night, not a week or even a month ago, but on this very day exactly one year ago.

From The Solitude of Ravens by Matsuhisa Fukase

p.s. This is my 100th posting. Many are hidden away, and some have never seen the light of day. I don't always know why I write. Sometimes I wonder if the purpose of writing is to forget, like scanning and digitizing a file and destroying the document, so I can make room for other thoughts.