just like that Anasazi are everywhere

just like that Anasazi are everywhere

fiction
Edward w Pritchard


The ancient ones move about invisibly from room to room here in the house I stay in.

Sometimes I hear them, sometimes I see the ancient ones  scurrying about carrying water and corn and gourds preparing supper and taking care of children. The children are well behaved and the Men and women are hardworking and industrious.

Other times the ancient Anasazi have disappeared, gone mysteriously for eight hundred years.

If I am alone for too long sometimes I try to summon the ancient ones. It doesn't work. The ancient ones disappeared mysteriously long ago. The rickety wooden ladders the ancient ones nimbly climbed about daily are gone, the narrow doorways the ancient ones squeezed through are invisibly sealed and shut.

Watch over me ancient ones. Night is interminable and I am alone. Three AM; it's dead silent here in the dark.

Soon I will dig and cut through one of the stone walls here in the silent cold cliff dwelling looking for the ancient ones.  Cautiously and silently from narrow room to room through the window like doorways I move searching for the ancient ones.

Somewhere, sometime just like that; 3 AM dark dead silent night, the ancient ones, invisible Anasazi are everywhere.