He knew he should have agreed to go then.....as it only made sense. But he sometimes does not. He was intent on listening to the last strums, beats, and blows of the musician. It was if he thought that what he had not discovered from an entire evening under the influence, would now present itself after all who mattered had moved on...
Perhaps it was some need to further identify himself.....isolated from the group he was free to explore other persona's and dig a little deeper into how he really meshed with those behind the veil. The absent minded lack of fear resonates with those he meets and the universal lifting of spirits lasts for a while.....but soon even those folks left. And so then....as if on some sort of auto-pilot....he starts his walk back to the campsite near the entrance to the ruins.
These areas of the planet are so dark. It is not the lack of lighting but the presence of the natural world so profound that all else fades to black. Each step a piece of the faith puzzle. Down a long road he wanders feeling the mud from recent rains squishing through his sandals. He has indulged to the point of considering laying down. It would be easier than this haphazard stumbling that would be perceived if anyone was around to perceive it.
Yet......his sense of self knows better. The morning would would undoubtedly bring locals within sight and they would only consider him another unknowing gringo. Or maybe the nocturnal animal hunters would find him defenseless and easy prey.
No.....he would keep walking and reaching out with one hand to guide his return to his bag that awaited. He needed sleep, as tomorrow he would rejoin the tribe he so much enjoyed. Until the next time he needed to search alone.
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