I had tied a cord securely to one of the higher stronger light fixtures...
by
Theresa Cecilia Garcia
and
Robert Brian Newbill
I had tied a cord securely to one of the higher stronger light fixtures making a
running noose and slipping it around my neck kicking the chair from under my
wake until I fell forward dying of slow strangulation.
It was like creeping through a tunnel where a brook must have been but all the
water had dried up so that it was quite dark. It seemed like I was going on
forever; a dismal ticket through the birth canal before I came out crying again
blind to the world and twisted between the stillness and silence, invisible ,among
horrid-grinning men and women. I had found another world in between life and
death that no one had ever remembered experiencing before.
It was as if I had fallen on a dead cold star void of air and the blowing wind. I
looked all around , down and round about me, outside of myself.
I felt my face whiten and my heart still within me where I knew no peace could
dwell. As I clung between the world of consciousness and the world of matter a
huge shadow leapt from behind me, darkness flowed past me. I could smell a
fragrance, a light familiar scent drifting toward me. The scent clung to my hair.
There was a slight breeze and I felt like I was sleepwalking laying naked under
drifting shadows ; I outside myself watching them move. My spirit had the
lightness of a bird coasting .
Realizing I had the power to draw back, to stand before the doors that opened
wide before me and not enter in, I awoke. For the first time I could see beyond
the world of shadows. The past was closed and I could only travel onward.
The choppy waves jerked the ferry up and down creating a fine mist which rose
over the river as sprays of water mixed with the heat of the engine. I was drawn
to the contrasts and the closeness of the low-hanging dark clouds which seemed
to hover directly over me.
From his end of the bench seat on the ferry, a man who can only be described as
a vessel of black crystal filled with blood red wine, kept shooting furtive glances in
my direction. A sense of foreboding chilled my soul and I shivered huddled inside
my coat.
"You have the sight, girl. You've seen her, yes? So sad, her husband was a good
man. She was bedridden in the last stages of tuberculosis. She only wanted to
end her pain and his grief." The man knelt beside me, kissing my hand with eyes
full of tears. Then he calmly got back on his feet and retreated from sight.
The ferry pulled to the dock and I caught my breath over the enormity of the
situation. The wind whipped up tangling my hair around my face and I stumbled
then stopped and turned my attention to the man standing before me as a small
crowd shifted, people staring, some gasping with a general sense of fear
emanating from their very being.
"She's dead!" He said. His height separated him from everyone else, giving him
an air of authority.
The gloom of the dark clouds shadowed his eyes that night and I took great
strides in finding my way back home.
Turning to the bed where my husband was sleeping peacefully I could see the
sun coming in through the window pane.
He felt like an invisible time period in my life. As though he happened years and
years ago and I was just learning now what his presence was all about. I could
sense his motions but I could not remember his touch.
I know we enjoyed water under Rubicon falls and the comfortable silence of two
lovers lost in each other's company. When the illness consumed my body,
between the threads of denial, we understood. We experimented. Trusted.
Hated. We were honest. Unfaithful. Contradicting. We loved! Through it all I felt
safe because of his strength .When reality finally hit, it knocked me clear over the
edge where we were left standing. I fell. The rain driven by the wind pushed play
and we were seperated. Now I've found him again.
New place, new time;where death and vague images of a wretched exile reflect
the splendour of a beautiful life lost in time beyond the world of shadows and of
God's plan. And time, rolled on and on. Like the waves beneath the ferry on the
river Styx that transported me here from my previous life.
Time has come full circle again. Dear God, if you're there,please help me get it
right this time.
Diary by TheresaCecilia
Read 651 times
Written on 2006-04-09 at 09:54
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Write a comment (requires login)
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TOURNIQUET
TOURNIQUETby
Theresa Cecilia Garcia
and
Robert Brian Newbill
I had tied a cord securely to one of the higher stronger light fixtures making a
running noose and slipping it around my neck kicking the chair from under my
wake until I fell forward dying of slow strangulation.
It was like creeping through a tunnel where a brook must have been but all the
water had dried up so that it was quite dark. It seemed like I was going on
forever; a dismal ticket through the birth canal before I came out crying again
blind to the world and twisted between the stillness and silence, invisible ,among
horrid-grinning men and women. I had found another world in between life and
death that no one had ever remembered experiencing before.
It was as if I had fallen on a dead cold star void of air and the blowing wind. I
looked all around , down and round about me, outside of myself.
I felt my face whiten and my heart still within me where I knew no peace could
dwell. As I clung between the world of consciousness and the world of matter a
huge shadow leapt from behind me, darkness flowed past me. I could smell a
fragrance, a light familiar scent drifting toward me. The scent clung to my hair.
There was a slight breeze and I felt like I was sleepwalking laying naked under
drifting shadows ; I outside myself watching them move. My spirit had the
lightness of a bird coasting .
Realizing I had the power to draw back, to stand before the doors that opened
wide before me and not enter in, I awoke. For the first time I could see beyond
the world of shadows. The past was closed and I could only travel onward.
The choppy waves jerked the ferry up and down creating a fine mist which rose
over the river as sprays of water mixed with the heat of the engine. I was drawn
to the contrasts and the closeness of the low-hanging dark clouds which seemed
to hover directly over me.
From his end of the bench seat on the ferry, a man who can only be described as
a vessel of black crystal filled with blood red wine, kept shooting furtive glances in
my direction. A sense of foreboding chilled my soul and I shivered huddled inside
my coat.
"You have the sight, girl. You've seen her, yes? So sad, her husband was a good
man. She was bedridden in the last stages of tuberculosis. She only wanted to
end her pain and his grief." The man knelt beside me, kissing my hand with eyes
full of tears. Then he calmly got back on his feet and retreated from sight.
The ferry pulled to the dock and I caught my breath over the enormity of the
situation. The wind whipped up tangling my hair around my face and I stumbled
then stopped and turned my attention to the man standing before me as a small
crowd shifted, people staring, some gasping with a general sense of fear
emanating from their very being.
"She's dead!" He said. His height separated him from everyone else, giving him
an air of authority.
The gloom of the dark clouds shadowed his eyes that night and I took great
strides in finding my way back home.
Turning to the bed where my husband was sleeping peacefully I could see the
sun coming in through the window pane.
He felt like an invisible time period in my life. As though he happened years and
years ago and I was just learning now what his presence was all about. I could
sense his motions but I could not remember his touch.
I know we enjoyed water under Rubicon falls and the comfortable silence of two
lovers lost in each other's company. When the illness consumed my body,
between the threads of denial, we understood. We experimented. Trusted.
Hated. We were honest. Unfaithful. Contradicting. We loved! Through it all I felt
safe because of his strength .When reality finally hit, it knocked me clear over the
edge where we were left standing. I fell. The rain driven by the wind pushed play
and we were seperated. Now I've found him again.
New place, new time;where death and vague images of a wretched exile reflect
the splendour of a beautiful life lost in time beyond the world of shadows and of
God's plan. And time, rolled on and on. Like the waves beneath the ferry on the
river Styx that transported me here from my previous life.
Time has come full circle again. Dear God, if you're there,please help me get it
right this time.
Diary by TheresaCecilia
Read 651 times
Written on 2006-04-09 at 09:54
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
