157

He look at his hands. He? He turned his hands over and looked at his palms in the moonlight before turning them back around to look at their backs. He. These are male hands. He felt his face and hair. No stubble, short hair. He.

He took a deep breath in through is nose. The air he took in was cool and his nasal cavity felt open and expansive. Their was salt in the air. He took a few steps down the road towards the town so that he could look past the large cliff wall that had been obstructing his view. The cliff walls were bright white and dotted with green bushes bravely taking hold of the moisture and soil that could be found in cracks. But he wanted to see the ocean. After a few clumsy steps he look and saw the water down below. He really was quite high up. Trees obscured anything below him, but the in the distance sparkled and danced in the full moon light.

Something int he blackness seemed familiar to him. Shrugging he began walking towards the entrance to the village. Something about the familiarity that had felt upon seeing the nighttime sky tugged as his memory, but he was unable to focus on it, and so he just kept walking towards the village. It seemed like the thing to do, the road ran towards the village entrance, and after all that was the way he had been heading.

As he got closer to the barred gate of the village he could see lights flickering through the wathman's window, which was inset in the small door. Ten paces from the entrance he could hear the sounds of people's voices and music. At five paces a voice called out to him.

"You there."

He stopped and looked around to see if there was anyone there with that name. Thinking that there had been a mistake he continued to walk closer, hoping to knock on the door and let the watchman know he was there.

"I said: 'You there!'" The voice called out again. "You in the white shirt and brown pants."

He looked down and saw that he was wearing a loose cotton shirt and brown woollen pants.

"Me?"

"Yes" The voice sighed. "The only man standing on the road." An old man's face came into view behind the iron bars. The watchman closed his left eye and squinted at the man standing in the road with the white shirt.