You’ll Find But Few Obtain Such an Age
This post is part of a series. Read the first installment here: http://andrawatkins.com/2013/10/28/reflect-how-soon-youll-quit-this-stage/
My world changes with the slam of a door. Soupy heat sizzles through me as I run, propelled by the force of her will.
Branches sting my face. Thorns scissor through my flesh. I taste my own blood and realize I am Here, among the Living.
I look back for one last glimpse of our final home together, but I am blinded by overgrowth. Neglect. Was the house there? Or there? I hack my feet through shoulder-high brush and skinny trees. Where are you? I shout.
Crickets cannot answer me.
I kick into the weedy dark, and it grabs my foot. Off-balance, I crash sideways through a thicket, wicked wildness that stabs my neck and makes bloody tracks through my clothes. My head hits a stony ledge, and the rising moon and stars go black.
When I come to, the moon is overhead. High. I reach my hands along that rim of rock, and I pull myself to sit. And, even as I wonder how the new owner could’ve let this place go to hell in less than twenty years, I see it.
A date. 1807. Etched in stone.
I leave rusty lines along its surface as I free it from its shroud of vines and bramble, and I register where I stand at the moment I feel bony fingers spider up my leg.
………….TO BE CONTINUED…………
- Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
- Share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
- Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on StumbleUpon (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Google+ (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
- Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)