On watching blood leave my body.
In another world; major events in your life are accompanied by messengers.
The bringers.
They bring with them heartache, pain, loss, but also love, bliss and contentment.
Each bringer comes in a different shape.
Some are seen as animals, padding along to meet you at your big moment.
Some come in grand shapes, cloaked in light or shade.
Some arrive as seemingly ordinary folks; you wouldn't even be able to differentiate them from the people on the street.
Depending on your life, you will meet some bringers more often than others.
You cannot force a bringer to come anymore than you can deny a bringer from approaching. For you cannot fake joy any more than you can reject your grief; you may ignore them for a time, but their very presence signals the futility of your denial.
You cannot trick them.
These creatures aren't guided by agenda. They are simply there. They are the bringers, and they bring these big moments in your life.
One day, you will be greeted by a vaguely familiar face. You won't know where you recognize it from, but you will know that you do.
Some work it out. Most do not.
Understandable, as it is the first face we ever see.
The bringer that is responsible for every other one that follows you.
The first. The last.
Most can't work out that these figures are one and the same.
Why wouldn't they be? In the end, we must begin again.
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