Tuesday, October 21, 2008

I was searching through the writing vault so to speak and found this piece. I wrote this awhile ago.


the isolation
the surroundings
repeating like a living heart beat at night fall.


she stood in her own silence. she walked over towards the window. there is the breath taking view. the one in all it's glory, so perfect. the one that keeps her here. the lake deeper than her eyes but cold like her body. just along the water's edge a boat gently sways back and forth in the crisp wind. the boat will take her. the night air is becoming thick around the stately house.
moving across the room, through the open door down towards the corridor to the staircase. silently she stood at the top of the staircase. admiring but waiting. waiting for the maid. anticipating someone, anyone. eventually no one. they have all left for the night. she doesn't need reassurances as she travels down the staircase towards the front door. the darkness brushes along side her. the door gently inching it's way open. the crisp wind reaches the floor. swirling and moving right through her. she is staring out to the lake. her skin pale as fog. her eyes glazed over. the passion and determination washed across her face. she moves lightly making her way to the boat. trying to breath. she lowers herself down to the night's vessel. there are no words. the boat is gently pushed by the water and by the wind. silence is everywhere and the darkness swallowing her. time passes. slowly from the mountainous depths the boat pushes it's way back, empty. alone. the boat wades back to the water's edge. waiting. waiting patiently as it always does. the air is thick and fell all around the stately house. where it will always be, where she will always be.

© copyright written on April 15th 1991 by JAQ.
protected by copyright laws. publishing prohibited unless by the author's permission.

1 comment:

D-Rock said...

It sounds a bit like a ghost story from the ghost's point of view.

Cool