She stared at the blank day ahead and wondered what to do with herself. The curse of this
western mentality… this need to do. She thought that she didn't want waste even a
moment of this life she had been given. She scrolled through names of people she
knew in her head but still she was at a loss. She didn’t want to talk, she
didn’t want to share, but she couldn’t stay inside for one more minute.
She heard classical music playing in the background. It was Sunday morning and her
housemates were up and making breakfast. She knew if she walked into the kitchen they would ask her what she would do with
her day. She knew she would reply vaguely, content to throw them off the scent of
her enforced solitude, the unsettled feeling she sat with each day, this
feeling of fragility that peaked with every interaction and movement she made.
She didn't want to share this day with someone yet if she lived it alone who would know
that she lived? Who would know that her day was not wasted? Later, when someone
asked her who she was out with what would she say? She breathed deeply and safely
maneuvered herself from questions, and walked into the sunlight. She looked at the most important gift she has received since she had been here - her bicycle.
Within
minutes she was out of the garden and safely circling the road, her music on
and her heart free now she could go anywhere she chose. It was no secret that
she was in love with this city, her heart soared at the sight of the skyline or
the diamond glitter of the river but still she pushed her bike on until she
reached her true home, the clear salt water that washed away any worry.
She laid her bike down, stripped off her clothes and walked into the warm waters. As she lay there, floating, she realised she no longer needed an anchor, raft or boat to help keep her safe. She no longer needed someone to give her words to help define her day. She lay bare, floating under the warm sun, allowing the support of the water to help her ride the waves, trusting the universe and its plan, no longer caring what was next.
She felt complete surrender.
You can read my short stories here: Gracie's short stories
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