Archive for October, 2013

October 27, 2013

Immovable Shadow

Photo: Creative Commons

Photo: Creative Commons

In my dream I saw you in the morning sunlight as I got on with my business. From between cracks in the sidewalk, and spaces between shrubbery branches and blades of grass, you spied my every move.

Each time I stepped into daylight, I found you waiting, delusory and immovable. My ignominy grew with each sunny day. Though I saw myself in mirrors an upright man, outside you mocked my nature in your low mutated de-form.

One morning when the marine layer held, I shut my door and walked into a dense coastal fog. The cold mist hid me from you. A sense of relief overcame me. But as I continued to walk, and the sun’s heat dissipated the cold air, I could see your faint shape in vanishing vapors. Were you there laughing?

I found a brief reprieve at high noon when dimensions flattened you to nothing. But you returned in the afternoon, and passers-by distanced themselves, and dogs growled, and children ran behind trees.

Then I dreamed a time late in fall when short days were on my side, I took a walk after dinner when darkness hid me. But in the cold night sky as the rising harvest moon illumed, you returned laughing.

As a feral cat screamed from its post, I ran from you cowering under the cover of a eucalyptus. Its branches reached out to me. The familiar scent in my head kept you at bay. Unseen, you laughed louder and louder. In the distorted span of hours I couldn’t shake you from my mind. So I remained under the protective scent of the tree until I could no longer keep my vigilant eyes open.

Near the midnight hour I awoke in the imaginary void. You were in my thoughts. You were the inescapable darkness. You were everywhere.

I passed the remainder of night unmoved and on the cusp of daybreak, laughing on the border of lunacy, I assumed my monstrous form. I became the immovable shadow.

TreeHouse Arts

For the Artists, by the Artists

Archetype

Where one writer and observer of the human condition shares what she's reading, writing, and thinking...

At The Wellhead

Soundings From a Protean Aquifer

%d bloggers like this: