A woman, no longer a girl, stood beside a familiar lake. Her childhood lake.
Here memories hung on the air around her. Not unlike a nearby fog, gathering above the pale blue surface.
Just as the young girl she once was once did; she now stood upon the water's edge, skipping light stones along the surface. Disturbing the tranquil calm, allowing it to recede, only to thwart tranquility one more.
All who were once children, who held rocks near water, know this exercise in redundancy.
Some have set records for how many times they might cause a thin smooth rock to dance along a watery stage. Some can't grasp the physics, never seein more than a single impact of stone on water.
However, if any were to think back on a number of stone skips they had achieved, it is unlikely they would recall the number to be that of seven. Certainly fewer and even more than seven skips could be recalled.
However, if one found they had skipped a stone to a number of exactly seven times, they would not soon forget what came after.
Just as this woman would not forget.
Seven skips, a sad sigh and then: a distant song. Sung without breath and without lips, the melody could be felt shaking each of the bars making up her heart's cage.
The gentle mist that had been gathering that day seemed pulled by this music, towards the shoreline where she stood in awe.
It must have been the song, for no wind disturbed the water.
A woman, no longer a girl, no longer stood beside a familiar lake
A girl, no longer a woman, stood before a brand new world.
No comments:
Post a Comment