Copper Trees

Author: Lyubko Deresh

Steam was rising. The air here was stagnant and still, as if in a large, enclosed barn. Just like before a storm. I approached the dark spot close enough to observe it. Above the gray sand was a sofa with wonderfully curved wooden legs and a frame upholstered in red velvet. A strange man was seated comfortably on the sofa, wearing a three-piece black suit. Black trousers, a loose shirt, a black waistcoat and jacket, and a black tie over his shirt. The man had long black hair streaked with gray, reaching his shoulders. His face was pale and long, and his eyes were covered by black glasses. His eyebrows, between black and gray, moved and often jumped above the frame of his glasses. The man embraced an electric guitar. On the guitar, as far as she could see, there were no strings. The man in black clothes ran his spidery fingers over the shimmering, invisible strings. The melody filled the entire desert, it was clear, transparent, and utterly fluid, as if from space. Startled, Dartsya pulled her head between her shoulders. To her boundless astonishment, she recognized Jimi Hendrix in him. Finally, Dartsya stood before the man in black clothes. He smiled genuinely and said, "Finally."