She ran from the house, her skin cold against the balmy
summer air. It could have been late afternoon, the full weight of sun and
humidity pressing down against her, and it wouldn’t have mattered. Nothing could warm her now.
Her hurried steps
brought her to the small patch of woods not far from the apartment. Gnarled
limbs, heavy with Spanish Moss, provided sanctuary as she wove her way around
the trees. Most of her friends were leery of this place, leery of the creatures
that called this swampy spot home. She was far more concerned with the human
creatures she left behind her, specifically the so-called friend that climbed
on top of her while she was passed out. She woke up to find his hands roaming
all over her, his lips pleading with her to just let him. Ultimately, nothing
had happened. He accepted her no… eventually. She found it no less disturbing,
though. The second he had rolled over and passed out, she bolted from the
place.
Her stomach soured with every
step as she considered how much worse it could have been. She shouldn’t have
drank so heavily the night before. She
should have gone home and passed out in her own bed. These were the course of
her thoughts as she found her way to the little stream. Heavily, she sat down at
its banks and watched the clear water as it flowed over copper-toned rocks and
away, far away, from where she sat. In spite of herself, her mind relaxed. She
just watched the water, enjoying the way the surface bubbled over the rocks,
flashing with specks of sunlight as it eased around the obstruction in its
path.
Suddenly, she knew. She knew that this moment was like the
rocks, stationary. Her life was like the water, flowing over, around, and past
it, leaving it far behind her. She inhaled the sweet, musty fragrance of soggy
earth, then stood. She smoothed the leaves and debris from her clothes, then
began to make her way home.
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Medussa's Myths - telling the stories of life
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