Don't Fall.
1/2.
From here, looking down into a seemingly small and insignificant world, I can see her standing on a narrow ledge in the most precarious of positions, golden links from others connected all over body. On one side of her narrow ledge she has the glistening and bright pools of sanity, self-confidence, control and a sense of direction. On the other is a murky swamp filled with dark creatures –turmoil is laced with chaos, inability and waywardness.
I watch her perform a delicate balancing act, constantly swaying and threatening to fall off either side. Gusts of angry wind whip and whirl around her frail form, making me wonder how she balances, how she doesn’t tip right over one of the edges. Curiosity keeps me from moving on to another world and I wonder if she’ll reach the end of the ledge, miles ahead.
I stay for hours watching her take small, cautious steps. Every now and again she leans to the bright pools but not long after she’ll lean heavily to the right, disrupting her previous stature. She has miles to go, yet determination is etched into her features that have long been tainted by worry and anxiety.
The fragility of her form betrays the inner radiance that shines from her. I ponder helping her, maybe making her journey a little easier but hesitance pulls at my conscience because, somehow, I know she has to do it on her own. Her determined expression falters often in the time that I watch but, it always returns, even if it’s a small trace.
Ahead, there’s a gap in her ledge. She can’t see it yet but I see it the moment it appears on the horizon. At the moment she’s too preoccupied, too worried about a path that’s threatening to connect and destroy her own, that she doesn’t even realise what’s ahead and that one of her links – one of the strongest ones – is beginning to loosen and fray.
When she sees the gap, it’s almost too late. She stops immediately, almost plummeting over the edge and her journey comes to a sudden halt. She looks around, distraught and disorientated. First, she notices the loose golden rope link that’s now barely connected. She grasps it with all her might and attempts to reconnect with it, to put the strength back in it.
But the link has already started to lose its glow and it’s becoming dull. Small tears form and escape from her eyes, but she doesn’t seem aware of it. Her fingers slip and fumble with the rope in her haste and it loosens a little more. It’s being tugged by another, from somewhere far away – it almost pulls her over the edge. She jerks it back hard and cradles it tightly in her arms, despite the threat it poses to her balance.
For now she is stuck, the other path so ominously close and the fraying link in her arms.
I watch her perform a delicate balancing act, constantly swaying and threatening to fall off either side. Gusts of angry wind whip and whirl around her frail form, making me wonder how she balances, how she doesn’t tip right over one of the edges. Curiosity keeps me from moving on to another world and I wonder if she’ll reach the end of the ledge, miles ahead.
I stay for hours watching her take small, cautious steps. Every now and again she leans to the bright pools but not long after she’ll lean heavily to the right, disrupting her previous stature. She has miles to go, yet determination is etched into her features that have long been tainted by worry and anxiety.
The fragility of her form betrays the inner radiance that shines from her. I ponder helping her, maybe making her journey a little easier but hesitance pulls at my conscience because, somehow, I know she has to do it on her own. Her determined expression falters often in the time that I watch but, it always returns, even if it’s a small trace.
Ahead, there’s a gap in her ledge. She can’t see it yet but I see it the moment it appears on the horizon. At the moment she’s too preoccupied, too worried about a path that’s threatening to connect and destroy her own, that she doesn’t even realise what’s ahead and that one of her links – one of the strongest ones – is beginning to loosen and fray.
When she sees the gap, it’s almost too late. She stops immediately, almost plummeting over the edge and her journey comes to a sudden halt. She looks around, distraught and disorientated. First, she notices the loose golden rope link that’s now barely connected. She grasps it with all her might and attempts to reconnect with it, to put the strength back in it.
But the link has already started to lose its glow and it’s becoming dull. Small tears form and escape from her eyes, but she doesn’t seem aware of it. Her fingers slip and fumble with the rope in her haste and it loosens a little more. It’s being tugged by another, from somewhere far away – it almost pulls her over the edge. She jerks it back hard and cradles it tightly in her arms, despite the threat it poses to her balance.
For now she is stuck, the other path so ominously close and the fraying link in her arms.