Excerpt: The Blind Photographer

Samuel’s first realization was that he was not alone. The second was that he was standing in a forest, an alpine forest like the ones in the east. Something about that was odd, but Samuel could not place why. The third and final realization was the reason he was not alone, in that he was being shepherded by several of the graceful, noble animals from the last time he’d come to this place. They stood tall and proud around him, seven of them, all with different colors to their coats. One was entirely dark brown, another had splashes of white and brown, one all black, another of them a musty gray, and so on, and as such they were unique. While under ordinary circumstances the animals were foreign to Samuel and his world, in this place they were perfectly normal. They were guides, of a sort, friends of another.
Two of the proud animals broke from the group and moved ahead, their motions steady and assured, and Samuel watched them walking away from him for a moment before he followed. The others picked up behind him and the gentle patter of hoofs against soft soil was comforting. The forest was quiet and lit by early morning light, and as Samuel looked around he could not see any other animals. Those shepherding them moved close by, as if shielding him from something, but through the gaps between them and in the trees above Samuel saw no squirrels, insects or birds, but he did not wonder why. It was not important, the path ahead that he was being lead on mattered more.
After a while, the shepherds ahead of him stopped and shifted aside, making way for Samuel to move ahead. They beckoned him as the one in his first dream had done, dipping their long necks and proud faces, gesturing forward with their noses in a manner of pointing. This time they firmly stamped their hoofs against the soil, which Samuel took as an indication that time was of the essence. Trusting the animals implicitly, Samuel walked forward and stood on the trail before them, looking ahead for some sign of what he was supposed to do next. One of the animals stepped forward next to him and nudged at his shoulder with its long face. For such large and powerful creatures, Samuel could have expected to be thrown to the ground by such a push, but instead he was brushed with a gentle touch. At their insistence, Samuel walked forward along the trail.
He looked back and saw that all seven were there waiting for him, shifting about in what he could best describe as some uncertainty. But Samuel was lost without them, he did not know where to go, and he stopped on the trail and waved them towards him, fear catching the air in his lungs and gripping at his throat, preventing him calling to them. But the shepherds understood and came trotting up to him. Two nudged at him, the one with splashes of white and brown, the other all black and glistening in the morning sun. It was a comforting gesture this time, not urging him to any activity, and the seven surrounded him closely. This time, when Samuel turned and began walking again, they were with him.
Having walked far, Samuel was stopped on the trail when a short distance ahead of them he saw something lying on the ground. It was a small thing, no larger than his closed fist, and Samuel’s hand flew up to his mouth when he recognized the form and shape as a bird. And then Samuel was standing over it, looking down at the little thing, twitching ever so slightly. The bird was dying.
The moment Samuel knelt down next to the bird, his shepherds became alarmed. They moved to and fro, trotting back and forth around him and bowing to the ground before rising back up with a vigorous shake of the head, and in doing so making a worrying, baying noise. Their actions concerned Samuel and he looked to them for help. One, dark brown and with a long, flowing mane, approached him directly and stooped its head down to his level, nudging gently at his shoulder. Samuel ran a hand along its neck and looked into the deep, noble eyes for some kind of answer.
“What should I do?” he asked. The shepherd at his side swiftly brought its head up and away, seeming to indicate that they leave. Samuel’s attention was drawn back to the dying bird.
“I should bring it with us. It needs our help,” he said, and at that very moment the shepherd at his side stepped forward and gave him a none too gentle shove with its nose, toppling him to the ground. The others were becoming more agitated, baying back and forth, trotting away back down the trail and looking back to Samuel before returning.
“I don’t understand,” he pleaded with them, “Should we leave now? Are we in danger?”
The shepherd nearest him bowed its head again and stepped backwards slowly, before rising back up to consider him sternly. It was as best of an affirmative he could get, and Samuel decided they needed to leave. He leaned forward and collected the injured bird in his cupped hands, trying his best to gently cradle the poor thing.
The moment his hands touched the quivering feathers a gust of wind tore through the forest, catching at his hair and nearly throwing him back to the ground. Samuel looked up quickly and saw the shepherds were running back and forth and clearly scared. The sunlight disappeared as clouds rolled over the forest, blocking the light and casting darkness all around. As the wind whipped around him Samuel stood, cradling the bird in his hands. A downpour began, drenching Samuel and everything around him.
“What did I do?” he shouted out, the tears streaming down his face mixing with the falling rain.
The animals circled around him, always in motion, trotting quickly around him and shaking their long necks and frightened faces furiously, scattering water from their manes. And then as one they broke from him and fled into the forest, soon lost in the darkness.

Samuel woke with sunlight on his face and the smell of spices just reaching him. As his eyes flicked open he first recognized that he was not lost in a forest being pelted with rain, and second that the forest was part of a dream, and third that he was also not where he’d expected to be, which was abandoned in a crumpled heap in the corner of some dank alleyway. His face felt wet, and he began to bring his hands up to address this when he noticed a card tucked between his hands.