Everything is calm.
I'm at a beach and everything is calm. The sun isn't too intense, the breeze isn't too strong and the clouds move at a rate that gives me alternating shade and sun time. I can see the storm that has just passed. I can see the damage it has done and the people trying to fix it all. The smell of rain still lingers and makes the air slightly moist.
As the storm moves further and further away I look to the sea, to the horizon, a definitive line between air and water and I wander what is waiting for me. I'm scared to move in case it hastens the next storm or brings the old one back. I'm scared my subconscious, which is still drunk from the last down pour, is waking and banging on the four walls of the windowless room I've locked him in. He's growing weary and his fits are becoming more aggressive. Any attempts I make to calm him are futile; my words fall on deaf ears.
The wind picks up and blows my hair around, whipping my face and neck. I know there will be another storm but I want to build a fortress that it can't ever break down. I hope that there is enough time. I hope that I can have some help, some support in building it, let me stand on my two feet, regain my balance and face the next storm recharged and ready to fight. The storm devastated my little, peaceful town once and I can't have it happen again. The foundations of this town are cracking and one more storm could wipe it out completely. Leaving nothing but a sandy reach, a desolate place where no one goes.
No comments:
Post a Comment