Tuesday, December 17, 2013

The Inner Loneliness

It was so real... so tangible. She could feel the cool air on her face, the bitter breezes that blew through the woods mussed her hair, the sweat in her armpits, the pinch of the calluses on her feet. Tall, skeletal trees lined the straight path she walked like a church's nave. The the long, decrepit figures reaching-up to the amber sky like vertical pillars of ink.

No squirrels scurried, no birds sang, no stray cat searched-out a meal in the trash bin. She took slow, labored steps, looking to the ground and the shimmer of light on her boots. She hoped for someone, anyone to walk her way, to cross her path, to acknowledge her presence.

She yearned for the one she watched across a room, who she waited for in darkened corridors, who she saw in thoughts before the darkness of night embraced her. If only a friend, at least a friend. At least somebody to talk to, to share moments of living time with.

Nobody appeared, in those darkened halls or in the lonely cathedral of the forest. And so she continued-on, waiting and laboring every step.