The Movement of Water
Shades of swirling blue madness above a darkening skyline, cast shadows across the land. I'm wading through icey waters, lost, but looking for a new home. The familiar falsehood that surrounds me and beckons me to stay and pretend. I'm hiding.
Abandoned houses sit in pools of sorrow, soggy and water logged with memories of the lives that were once contained inside their walls. Stirring sounds divert my aim and I am greeted by a friend I once knew well.
"We thought you were dead," she cries clutching her belly that is ripe with life.
My eyes travel back to a distant place inside my head and I recall. I had tried to escape... life, but still found myself trapped even in death. Dead to the world, but still painfully aware of life bustling loudly all around me. It is why I sought out this desolate land in the first place. Confusion clouds my thoughts and she takes my hand.
"It's almost time," she informs me as we approach the Gray House.
I tremble with remorse. I'm not ready for this. I can't go inside. I don't want to see the memories hanging from the walls, but it's too late. Their images touch my mind and I collapse on the stairs submerged in water.
"This is far as I can go," I tell her with pleading eyes.
She nods understanding and kneels with me in the movement of the water. She places my hands on her belly and I feel the life rolling beneath my fingertips. We exchange a long meaningful look and I know what I have been brought here to do.
I draw my knees to my chest and she presses her back against my calves. I hold her shoulders as she bears down, pushing life into the gentle currents that lap around us. The water runs crimson as she screams out her agony. Softly, I encourage her to push although every contraction is killing me.
One final struggle and then she collapses against me weak with exhaustion. I pull the child up through the water. It breaks the surface and fills its lungs with its first breath of life. Eyes as blue as crisp mountain skies stare back at me and fill me with wonder.
Abandoned houses sit in pools of sorrow, soggy and water logged with memories of the lives that were once contained inside their walls. Stirring sounds divert my aim and I am greeted by a friend I once knew well.
"We thought you were dead," she cries clutching her belly that is ripe with life.
My eyes travel back to a distant place inside my head and I recall. I had tried to escape... life, but still found myself trapped even in death. Dead to the world, but still painfully aware of life bustling loudly all around me. It is why I sought out this desolate land in the first place. Confusion clouds my thoughts and she takes my hand.
"It's almost time," she informs me as we approach the Gray House.
I tremble with remorse. I'm not ready for this. I can't go inside. I don't want to see the memories hanging from the walls, but it's too late. Their images touch my mind and I collapse on the stairs submerged in water.
"This is far as I can go," I tell her with pleading eyes.
She nods understanding and kneels with me in the movement of the water. She places my hands on her belly and I feel the life rolling beneath my fingertips. We exchange a long meaningful look and I know what I have been brought here to do.
I draw my knees to my chest and she presses her back against my calves. I hold her shoulders as she bears down, pushing life into the gentle currents that lap around us. The water runs crimson as she screams out her agony. Softly, I encourage her to push although every contraction is killing me.
One final struggle and then she collapses against me weak with exhaustion. I pull the child up through the water. It breaks the surface and fills its lungs with its first breath of life. Eyes as blue as crisp mountain skies stare back at me and fill me with wonder.