Medicinalmeadows

THE PLACE WITHIN


1 Comment

The Forest…..storytelling in a modern world

 

This is a repost of a blog from a while back….now the story continues. I have finished  the journey, a metaphor and metaphysical story……so far. Please check back next week for part two….

Thank you for stopping by..

jungleLoneliness is an interesting feeling. Out here I never felt so alone. I followed the river and the water mesmerised my vision as if it was being siphoned into a spiralling hole underneath my gaze. My feet sunk into the dark wet mud. The cold covered the skin like small cuts of a knife into the flesh and the colour of my skin was no more than of bone. The iced feeling chilled every part of me. Legs to torso, to jaw to scalp, all rattling like an old escalator, but going nowhere.

The rain bulleted from the darkest of skies. It filtered through branches, leaves exponentially poured onto my shoulder then stopped, wittingly collecting again awaiting to restart. My hair was heavy, eyes cloudy, as my forehead drained upon my face and my chin streamed a river of water onto my chest. I posed with knees together, fists together but no warmth exulted from this angle of arms into breast. Here in the mud, the moment, I was frozen.

My clothes tightly wrapped around legs and arms as the cold cloth stained into my body unmoveable. The fall sustained further back had splattered earth to my hands and face that bit into flesh. The shoes lay somewhere cemented into the ground on the path, so bare feet chilled into bone, to marrow.

I couldn’t hear birds call, or traffic nearby nor human – animal movements due to hissing of the rain. Foolish to venture these muddy paths of riveted blackness, stoops and drains like treacle. No saviour will come this way, I and only I can make my way out of this dissented climate. I have been here too long. A lift of foot, a step, a bleeding pained first step is required just one, just rise and step away.


2 Comments

WordPress Weekly Discover Challenge: Snapshots – Nightmare Nightclub

Nightmare….stranded. This is just great. The surge of anger at herself fuzzed the situation and the previous few hour’s alcohol wasn’t helping. She still had her house key so the only thing bothering her now was getting from A to B. There was only one thing for it just start walking. It was 1am. The nightclub had started emptying and she couldn’t see any of her friends even now as the lights started to flicker on for chucking out.

Outside was a chaotic gathering of party goers and taxis, she had to leave. She walked in the direction of her clumsy compass. She got to the end of the road and recognised some buildings, great right turn. She was consoled by the well-lit direct route ahead. She looked up for a moment, this is familiar, then fear hit her feet. This was the area of the city where she had worked in a medical centre as a student, the red light district with all the stories she had been told during her placement. Including this renowned location as one of the most dangerous streets in the country. Over the road out of the corner of her eye were a huddle of figures, she dared not turn her head, she walk faster. She now hoped to God she was invisible. She saw the medical centre in the distance that meant the end of the road. Now just a short walk up hill through the well-known street gang area. Great. She hadn’t thought this through, but what other choice did she have.

Footsteps now pattered behind her, louder, thundering. She turned sharply, stumbling due to the pace her feet had been panicking. Approaching was the man she had spoken to for part of the night at the bar. Nice bloke, no cheesy wanker but a boy from the same small town background, finding himself in an edgy club that seemed too much like a movie set and borderline illegal.

“I shouted you, but hell you can walk. I saw you leave and thought what is she doing? Mad cow.”

“I lost my purse in there” she explained.

“Pocketed I bet. I was gonna offer you a lift in our taxi then you strutted off.”

“Can we walk?”

As they walked, they talked and realised they were both talking ten to the dozen. Adrenaline no doubt. They seemed to have reached to her front door without realising how far they had come.

“I’m here”

They stopped. Silent for a time, just breathing. The alcohol fueled confidence had dispersed and they hesitated as to what to do next.

“That must have been one of the craziest things I’ve ever done” he said.

“What you? You’re in the Army! In the Gulf! Walking home is crazy?”

“We’re well kitted out”

They laughed.

Hell he wasn’t wrong. That must have been one of the most dangerous,  idiotic things, to risk your life getting home from a nightclub. Another awkward moment, then they were distracted by a bus passing at the top of the street. Night buses that stopped round the corner at the hospital gates, he pointed and ran in that direction waving as he went. No number, no call me, nothing exchanged. She half expected a knock at the door some weeks later and they would have laughed at the crazy girl that walks so fast her feet don’t touch the floor!

Years later she tells this story to a friend. The friend asks,”was he in white, no name given, and vanished faster than you blink?” She looks puzzled. The friend explains that she believes we are sent earth angels in dangerous times to keep us safe. You know, the guy was dressed completely in white.

(For the WP Weekly Discover Challenge: Snapshots)


10 Comments

The Forest

And the story continues…..

This is a repost of a blog from a while back….now the story continues. Check back next week for part two….

Thank you for stopping by..

jungleLoneliness is an interesting feeling. Out here I never felt so alone. I followed the river and the water mesmerised my vision as if it was being siphoned into a spiralling hole underneath my gaze. My feet sunk into the dark wet mud. The cold covered the skin like small cuts of a knife into the flesh and the colour of my skin was no more than of bone. The iced feeling chilled every part of me. Legs to torso, to jaw to scalp, all vividly rattling along as if on an old escalator, but going nowhere.

The rain bulleted from the darkest of skies. It filtered through branches, leaves exponentially poured like from a reservoir onto my shoulder then stopped, wittingly collecting again awaiting to restart. My hair was heavy, eyes cloudy, as my forehead drained upon my face and my chin streamed a river of water onto my chest. I posed with knees together, fists together but no warmth exulted from this angle of arms into breast. Here in the wet, the mud, the moment, I was frozen.

My clothes tightly wrapped around legs and arms as the cold cloth stained into my body unmoveable. The fall sustained further back had splattered earth to my hands and face that bit into flesh. The shoes lay somewhere cemented into the ground on the path, so bare feet chilled into bone, to marrow to freeze blood.

I couldn’t hear birds call, or traffic nearby nor human – animal movements due to hissing of the rain. Foolish to venture these muddy paths of riveted blackness, stoops and drains of ground like treacle. No saviour will come this way, I and only I can make my way out of this dissented climate. I have been here too long. A lift of foot, a step, a bleeding pained first step is required just one, just rise and step away.