First morning frost of the year. A thin layer of transparent ice has coated the tall pine trees and the rocks around the lake. It brings out the lost grandeur of my ash statues, as if their dust was cleared overnight. My bones protest to the cold and so does my soul. Ten years is a long time for anyone to spend in these parts, but how can I go back now? How can I leave them behind, leave this life behind. The lake is all I have. I smile to myself because I know I have no choice but to move forwards. I gaze at the long expanse and walk to the edge of the mirror. I wonder if it will be as quick as with the birds. A grown man like me may take a while to turn to stone. I spend this last day waiting for the sun to set. As the sun’s last ray falls on the mirror blinding me by its light, I step inside the lake. It’s as cold as I had imagined it to be but I don’t pull back. Arms glued at my sides I walk deeper and deeper still. I can feel their ashen eyes on the back of my head and I turn around one last time to wave goodbye. I can’t lift my arm...
Posted on: Fri, 01 Nov 2013 10:37:49 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015