On a breezy afternoon, alone on a hillside, she senses its coming before she ever sees it. Far in the distance the dark cloud moves steadily closer. Perhaps, this time, she could just stand up and start walking. Walking away, always in the light, that would save her, the cloud would never arrive. At least, she entertains the thought. But she laughs a little in resignation. Of course it will catch up. It always does; so she waits, feeling her limbs grow heavier and heavier, holding her in place. Around her, people dance in the warmth of the sun, pick flowers, laugh, play games. But the cloud is coming for her, and she knows it, recognizes it, has given up trying to flee. “It’s okay,” she tells herself. “It will only stay a while. It always moves on…eventually.” How odd that the others don’t see it, this cloud that comes for her. How could they miss something so huge, so engulfing, so cold? It descends. The temperature begins to drop. The air is heavy with moisture and it’s getting harder to see clearly. Yet the others don’t see, can’t see, must not see. So in a ritual long-since perfected, she arches her neck, tilting back her head as she opens her mouth to inhale the cloud deeply into her soul. After all, her soul is what it’s come for.
I'm trying to get back in the habit of writing every day. Lately, I've been working on character sketches. Some of those will find their way here, in the form of individual comments to this post.
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Around her, people dance in the warmth of the sun, pick flowers, laugh, play games. But the cloud is coming for her, and she knows it, recognizes it, has given up trying to flee.
“It’s okay,” she tells herself. “It will only stay a while. It always moves on…eventually.”
How odd that the others don’t see it, this cloud that comes for her. How could they miss something so huge, so engulfing, so cold?
It descends. The temperature begins to drop. The air is heavy with moisture and it’s getting harder to see clearly. Yet the others don’t see, can’t see, must not see. So in a ritual long-since perfected, she arches her neck, tilting back her head as she opens her mouth to inhale the cloud deeply into her soul. After all, her soul is what it’s come for.