Friday, December 10, 2010

Image Inspired Mini Story #5

I strolled through, enjoying the warm summer breeze. At the end of a particularly curvaceous trail I came to the edge of the property. There was a rod iron fence that ran the entire perimeter. I had been here earlier and infused the bars with time. Now they emanated the feel that they were older than Methuselah's bones. I opened the gate and closed it gently behind me, making sure not to damage my trailing gossamer. A gravel road extended in either direction, forest ahead. I took the left path.

It was a considerable hike to the end of the road. To ease the tedium I picked up a stick and ran it along the rod iron fence beside me. A mile ended the fence and another ended the road.

It was replaced with a chasm; deep, rocky, and filled with the sky. There was no guardrail, the world just ended. I gathered up some of the thin cord I’d been towing and tied it around a rock. Once secure, I pitched it over the edge. It vanished, leaving a shimmer-sheen of string behind it. I stood for a while, watching the clouds, before I remembered that I was on a schedule. Turning, I walked along the cliff-side until I came to a plain of rocky shale. It extended out over the sky, forming a considerable isthmus across the blue expanse. In the far distance, I saw another island of land; her Sphere

The wind was very strong here. The flat stones were cracked and broken creating loose piles, like hills. Some of these jagged monoliths jutted high, like immense fingers, scratching at the clouds. Others lay dead on the ground, exhausted from the reaching. They reminded me of the futility of effort, the impossible stand we all take against life. What can I say? You rate it by the ride and mine had been far from pleasant.

We all have places like this, on the fringe. As we grow, we herd it along before us on into the God-knows-what that lies beyond. I'd pushed mine pretty far. I smiled in appreciation of her, as of yet, undefined space. I would have to sneak back here some day to see what becomes of it. What became of her. Anything was possible.

__________________________________


Image is by an artist named Isil Metriel. I don't know anything much about them. This image actually reminded me of a very old story idea I had years ago. This is a fragment of scene from that very vintage daydream.

No comments:

Post a Comment