I was in the middle of the sea. I don't know how I got there.
I'm not even sure if this is a dream——it feels so real. But then again, I
always take dreams as reality. The vast ocean extended to the far
horizon, sunless as the skies caught indigo. Wherever I was swimming to,
the answers were unknown. Having no compass, I just swam, hoping for
the best. It wasn't until the blackness vanished from the blue did I
find a verdant island on its stony cliffs, where there's town and
forest. To the stairs I climbed and after each step, the stairs reformed
into its natural structure. The cliffs' hidden stairs, according to the
legends of Fleurence, are to foreshadow one's haplessness. I paused to
ponder about that, about the possibility if misfortunes would intersect
my trail. I don't know if there will be any, and I assured myself so to
retreat into comfort. The breeze embraced me cruelly. I think it is
close to zero degrees Celsius. My gossamer gown was unlike the winter
apparel that I should've brought, but if I did, the warmth meant to
ameliorate me could be soporific. I'd rather be cold if that's what it
takes to be awake and aware until I find shelter.
Unquestionably, the fear of entering the forest without a candle lit calls for flight. But somehow, I managed to stand. There I was, standing still like the pristine trees in the acres ahead, trusting my own sagacity, which could be unreliable. I thought to myself, "Take risks because there may not be a second chance when you turn around." This was supposed to encourage me, just when I realized that what I dreaded poisoned my mind of wonders——what if I went forth without turning back? But the hope for shelter, the hope for discovering it pulled me forward. Forget idleness, there's no time for such a phase in the freezing atmosphere. There was something appealing about the forest that I couldn't quite grasp, and its mystery drew me in. I couldn't resist the privilege to find out what lies buried at its heart.
Unquestionably, the fear of entering the forest without a candle lit calls for flight. But somehow, I managed to stand. There I was, standing still like the pristine trees in the acres ahead, trusting my own sagacity, which could be unreliable. I thought to myself, "Take risks because there may not be a second chance when you turn around." This was supposed to encourage me, just when I realized that what I dreaded poisoned my mind of wonders——what if I went forth without turning back? But the hope for shelter, the hope for discovering it pulled me forward. Forget idleness, there's no time for such a phase in the freezing atmosphere. There was something appealing about the forest that I couldn't quite grasp, and its mystery drew me in. I couldn't resist the privilege to find out what lies buried at its heart.
The woods lacked its usual moonlight. I stepped
cautiously, not knowing where I was going in the evergreen woodlands. My
schoolteacher, a constant lecturer of safety, would have find my
decisions perilous and chide. I recommenced my strides, where echoes
reciprocated even its slightest sound. The touch of birch reminded me of
a blazing fireplace that I yearned since arrival. I sighed, being so
lost and hopeful all at the same time, having strode with the comfort of
the fir in this environment, without answers known. I turned to gaze
back, and could see the edges of the cliffs, the pastures from where my
journey initiated, the less dense parts of the forests that invited heavenly radiance that came each dawn, subsiding the reign of night.
A few paces forth or so, I saw firelight at a distance. I
couldn't make out what it was, but kept going. It could be a wildfire.
Why didn't I leave? There was still that enigma that drew me. There has
to be an explanation for what I saw. But when I got there, all I
wanted to do was depart. Dreary drops of wistful water tumble to the
blades of grass. The estate before my eyes was mine, it was where I
could've sought shelter and reside. It was lit on fire. I couldn't smell
the smoke, much less inhale the ashes, but clearly saw the pieces of
the roof drift into nothing. Why was my house on the cliffs? How was I
in the middle of the sea? Was this a dream? I instinctively fled. I
wanted to stay there and mourn for my family, but I was, without reason,
compelled to run.
I dashed out of the woods. I was trying to breathe, trying to take it all in and make sense of it. Where did that intuitive decision to flee originate? The dewdrops fell on the stone-hard cliffs from oaks above, where leaves diverged, but sheltered the edges and too lively to be forgotten. I dove off its edge. Again, without my sagacity involved. It was like some other instinct drove me, and everything fell into place. It made sense. I was in the middle of the sea in the end because I fled home. I survived.
I dashed out of the woods. I was trying to breathe, trying to take it all in and make sense of it. Where did that intuitive decision to flee originate? The dewdrops fell on the stone-hard cliffs from oaks above, where leaves diverged, but sheltered the edges and too lively to be forgotten. I dove off its edge. Again, without my sagacity involved. It was like some other instinct drove me, and everything fell into place. It made sense. I was in the middle of the sea in the end because I fled home. I survived.
No comments:
Post a Comment