Shadows of an Afterthought - 16th Century -Spanish Arch, Galway, Ireland. Gráinne waits patiently in the shadows of Spanish Arch, to catch a glimpse of a Alonso, a Spanish boy who trades goods everytime his ship docks.
The Aurora Archives: Day 12
ARCHIVE ENTRY: 1588-DEC-24 LOCATION: The Spanish Arch, Galway (City of the Tribes) SIGNAL RESONANCE: Harmonic/Cross-Cultural OPERATIVE: Joint Task Force (Hibernian Hare & Iberian Hopper)
TRANSCRIPT OF RECOVERED CORRESPONDENCE: (A scrap of parchment found tucked into the stone crevices of the Spanish Arch during 19th-century renovations. Written in a mix of phonetic English and Gaeilge. Translated as close as possible to modern English)
To the Saint of Sailors (Nicholas),
I am writing this by the light of the curve, where the stone meets the water. The tide is turning, and the great wooden ship, the Santa Maria de la Rosa, is groaning against her ropes. He is leaving, Saint Nicholas. But my heart is not heavy. It is dancing with unbridled joy.
I waited three days in the shadow of the Arch. I knew he was there, Alonso. The boy with eyes like dark wine. I had no words for him, and he had none for me. I am Claddagh; he is Castile. The wall stands between us even when the gates are open. We stood like statues, afraid to move.
Then, the shadows moved for us.
From the heather, a great brown hare of the hills appeared. And from the ship’s gangplank, a small, grey creature, a rabbit of dust and dry earth, hopped down. They did not fight. They met on the cold stones between us.
They rose up on their hind legs, paws touching the air and then meeting each other, and they spun. It was a reel, but silent. They pushed against the empty air as if it were solid ground, spiraling up and up, higher than my waist, before drifting down like feathers, and then they danced. I had heard stories of rabbits like this like I had heard of the daoine maithe. I never expected to see it in real life.
Alonso laughed, as surprised as I was. It was a sound like water over stones. He pointed and said, “Conejo.” I pointed and said, “Coinín.”
The wall crumbled. Not the stone one, but the silence.
I took his hand. I was bold. I led him past the guards, down to the mud cabins of the Claddagh. The fire was roaring in Tadhg’s cottage. The pipes were screaming, and the old men were battering the floor with their boots. Alonso’s eyes were wide. He did not know the steps, but he felt the rhythm. We danced until the sweat ran cold on our backs. Our music seemed to raise him to heights he didn’t even seem to know he had.
Then, he led me back. To the edge of the water. The Spanish men were sitting on crates, playing a wooden box with strings that hummed like a weeping woman. It was slow. Beautiful. We did not jump about like we had; we swayed in each others arms, it was perfect. Áine shone down on us.
Two worlds, Saint Nicholas. Spinning around each other like the rabbits in the air.
The tide is high now as I write this. He has gone aboard. But he pointed to the moon, and then to the ground. He will return. When he comes back, I plan to have learnt a few more words, and a few more dances. I plan to one day marry this boy from far away.
If you guide his ship through the storms, I will leave a carrot on the Arch every night. Not for the horse, but for the Coinín who taught us the steps.
Mise le meas (Yours with respect), Gráinne
ARCHIVIST’S NOTE: This entry represents a Harmonic Convergence event. The floating spiral observed by the subject is a standard greeting ritual between operatives of different geographical cells, utilized to synchronize their internal gravity sensors, as well as get to know one another. The linguistic exchange (”Conejo/Coinín”) validates the hypothesis that Rabbit intervention often acts as a semantic bridge in high-friction social zones. The “wooden box with strings” refers to a vihuela, a precursor to the guitar, common on Spanish vessels of this period.
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Your descriptions are tight and profound. The format was absolutely delicious, you had me lost in a love affair then back at the table reading the work of a diligent scribe the next. I'm frankly inspired by your work. Bravoooo
Oh this is absolutely wonderful. Captivating from start to finish! I love the inclusion of Gaeilge too. You have smashed this! A beautiful love story with the magic of Christmas <3 Go raibh míle!