Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Chains Final Chapter

Unmasked and bare they stood before him in militaristic rank and file, with countless rows behind the first stretching on and on, far exceeding the limits of his sight. Sweeping through the sea of faces with his eyes, perplexed and confused, he struggled to understand the meaning behind the cryptic spectacle that had unfolded before him.

Undeniably, they were his captors, the very same savages responsible for his current plight; the very same dictators who had banished him to this accursed isle of exile. Yet, beyond his wildest expectations, they did not bear the hideous visages of monsters, faces that would have been perfectly aligned with their heinous actions, but implausibly, wore the dispassionate faces of humans instead.

As he started to zoom in on those seemingly human faces, this time focusing his attention on the individual, it made his heart shiver when he realized that he could identify every single face in the contingent. Friends and enemies, relatives and acquaintances, students and mentors, colleagues and companions, even those of his aged parents, even that of the one that he loved, they were all observing him collectively as he shook his head in disbelief, his mind desperately searching for an answer and his spirit, longing for a resolution.

And just as he began to question the fragility of his own sanity, his eyes stumbled upon a face that allowed him to rise above the confusion; a face that bestowed upon him the salient revelation that he had been searching for all this while. There, nestled within the eerie stillness of the sea of faces, amongst the cold-hearted ranks of the army of enforcers, he finally found the one that he had known for the longest time; he finally found himself.

Enlightened by the truth, he now understood the secret identity of the enforcers, and founded upon that knowledge, the essence of the very chains that bound him; how strong they could grow, yet how weak they could be if only he had the eyes to see them for what they really were. Empowered by that liberating revelation, he effortlessly broke the chains that imprisoned him in plain sight for all to see, shattering them into pieces as though they were mere threads of brittle clay, and the old desk that he could never find refuge from followed suit, crumbling down in a landslide of wood and dust, leaving behind in its place a beautiful set of wings emanating glory that rivaled those of divinities, angels and seraphs.

As he reached out to touch the heavenly feathers of the glowing wings, they bathed him in an ethereal light more intense than any he had ever felt before, and through his body the light ran until it emerged as a perfect set of wings on the other side of his chest, seamlessly woven into the skin of his back, held to him by flesh and blood and not by the unfeeling bindings of chains and steel.

As the enforcers rushed in to lay hold of him, he lifted his feet off the ground and rose up into the sky high above and beyond their reach, soaring through the air and grazing the heavens as he embarked on his maiden flight. Dancing on a stage of sapphire blue and bursting through the clouds like he had always dreamed of doing, he flew and flew until he once again came within view of the city, but this time, for the first time since the days of his childhood, he saw it in more than just shades of gray and white, but in the full splendor of an array of bright and beautiful colours.

-------------- The End ------------

Chains Chapter 7

It was unknown to him how long he had been unconscious for, but when he finally came to his senses, he found himself in a place with a layout so simple, yet so profound. In what seemed like the centre of an alien universe he sat, with a single spotlight shining upon him from above, casting a circle of illumination around him just big enough for him to see ten feet at most in all directions, and beyond the fringes of its limited glow lay an ocean of darkness that made it impossible to identify what lurked beyond.

Yet he was not alone in that cone of light, and together with him stood the only other thing visible to his lifeless eyes, his nemesis; the old desk that had haunted him for days without end, a companion whose company bore affliction instead of comfort. And now here he was once again, seated in his rightful place behind its familiar frame, his feet crossed at the ankles as always, staring blankly at the files stacked neatly at the top right corner like he would find them every morning.

But this time, there was no more running, for his wrists were inescapably imprisoned in a freshly forged set of chains; the thickest he had ever seen, the heaviest he had ever had to carry, and twisting around the prosaic body of the old desk they extended endlessly, forming a convoluted mass of knots and loops whose complex paths could not be traced, binding him once and for all, inseparably and indefinitely to his duties and obligations.

Filled with indignation, but resigned to the preordained, his hands trembled violently with anger as he wept bitter tears of grief and hate. The struggle had come to an end, and though he resented having to accept the ruinous fate that had befallen him, he no longer had the strength to carry on fighting, and in a broken state of utter despair, he bowed his head in defeat as he listened, helpless and hopeless, to the dying breaths of his long-cherished dreams.

But the nightmare was far from over, and just as he thought that the worst had already come to pass, he began to hear their perfectly timed footsteps closing in on him from all around, marching with flawless precision, bringing with them an ominous sense of impending judgment. Like an army of a hundred strong, the ground trembled under the weight of their advance, sowing great fear in his already weakened heart as the apprehension of unrealized suffering tormented him to no end.

Barely beyond the edges of the light they cunningly stayed their feet, and though they were entirely cloaked in darkness, hidden from his eyes, he could feel their overbearing presence wherever he turned. Besieged by unsettling silence, he heard the frantic beatings of his heart pounding faster and faster into his ears as his palms drenched themselves in nervousness and perspiration. Then suddenly, without a shadow of a warning, the entire area was flooded in a deluge of light, shattering the darkness and blinding him temporarily, but ultimately revealing the most mystifying display he had ever witnessed in his life.

Chains Chapter 6

This was the moment that he had been longing for all these years; a reality made of the surreal substance of broken dreams and faded wishes, yet now here he was living out the very scene he never once thought would come to pass, and steadfastly he held onto her hand as though she was all ever he knew for he was not about to let this slip through his fingers for anything else in the world.

Led by the hand, tailing closely behind him, she had no time for contemplation and her mind was a complete blank. But his passion was overwhelming, and his courage, inspiring, and she felt a strong rekindling in her heart, a revival of her very own hopes and dreams that set her spirit ablaze, and that alone was enough for her to follow in his footsteps in search of a future that they could truly call their own.

Out the mansion they emerged, where they were met by the boundless freedom of the cloudless skies above, and together they streaked down the pine-scented driveway, with their chains screaming in agony each time they were dashed against the earth at their feet, and an unparalleled sense of fulfillment, one that lay dormant up until now, erupted from within their very souls.

To the end of the driveway they finally came, and now, all that stood between them and the world outside was nothing but a mere gate, the weakest link in the compound’s outer walls. With not a moment to lose, he lunged toward that twisted web of glittering gold and scaled it in the same way that he had done earlier, only this time in reverse, and on the other side of the gate he soon landed, firm and unwavering.

But looking back through the empty spaces of the gate’s skeletal frame, he saw that she had not followed him, but had stopped herself just as she was about to begin her ascent. On the other side, with one of her shackled hands gripping the bars tighter than one lost at sea holding onto a lifeline, she froze. Separated by what seemed like the locked, impassable door of a birdcage between them, she stared long and hard into his eyes with a piercing sadness, and he understood in all fullness that this time, despite all that he had done, he was just too late.

Devastated by the epiphany that had dawned upon him, he gently caressed her hand with the tip of his fingers, stroking them with an enigmatic tenderness that carried with it both love and disappointment. Like a foolhardy knight he had come to rescue her from her tower of entrapment, but what he had failed to consider was the strength of the chains that bound not only her hands, but also her heart, and in the end, neither his sincerity nor bravery was enough to prevail over them.

As sorrow flooded into the chambers of his aching heart, the unsettling footsteps of the eerie, inhumane army echoed from behind him. But it was already too late to attempt an escape, his fate had been sealed, and he knew that her tears fell partially out of pity for herself, but more so for the inevitable pain that was to come for him. And as soon as he bade her farewell, he was torn away from her side and was met with anguish beyond the realms of what he could bear, and then, his world faded into nothingness.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Chains Chapter 5

Having separated the very doors that had obstructed him before, he was now greeted by the splendor of the mansion’s interior, a hallway constructed of handcrafted tiles branded with emblems and of sparkling pillars and chandeliers that exuded regality like no other. But his eyes were immune to their artistry, and far was he from being charmed by any of these, for in the middle of the hallway, perfectly placed between the rows of jeweled pillars, stood his prize and what he had come all this distance for.

She was as beautiful as he could have ever imagined her to be, surrounded by an air of aristocracy that he always felt incapable of emulating, just like before. Her elegant gown wrapped itself around her physique so perfectly, accentuating her womanly lines and curves, and mesmerized by her captivating silhouette, he was once again reminded that she was no longer the girl whom he used to climb trees with from the days of his childhood, but was now a lady of standing, who in the same manner as he, was enslaved by her own set of chains.

Her eyes were wide with surprise, and her satin glove, daintily placed over her rouged lips in an attempt to hide her shock, as long had it been since she had extinguished any expectation or hope of ever seeing him again. But now, to her mansion of gray he had come, tardy as always, with that same look in his eyes from faded years of the past, full of passion and overflowing with foolish courage, and immediately, without need for explanation, she understood the purpose of his coming.

Saddled by uncertainty, he paused at the doorway once again, and for the first time today, considered carefully the grave consequences of his actions thus far in intricate detail. But he knew in his heart that the decision had already been made, and with that understanding, he took the first step toward her, backed up by nothing other than a tiny drop of faith.

The first step he took, small as it might have been, led to another, and then another, and then another, and his chains, shivering in fear, rattled each time the soles of his tarnished leather shoes met the spotless tiles of the reflective mansion floor. One step at a time he continued, his confidence building with each second, and straight toward her, unwavering in thought and deed, he steadily advanced until she was right there within the grasp of his tired, weathered hands.

As he gently seized her wrist, he completely enveloped the shackles that bound her with his own hands and their eyes met momentarily, his shining brightly with hope and reassurance, but hers still glazed with disbelief. Yet now was not the time to be indecisive, and without saying a word, he turned around and started to run toward the open doors of the mansion through which he had entered earlier, only this time, not alone, but with her following closely behind him hand in hand.

Chains Chapter 4

A fresh sense of liberation filled his spirit as he stepped out into the open, but a foreboding fear soon took its place as the deafening screams of an alert siren echoed across the skies. Knowing full well that he was the cause for alarm, he looked around in a frantic state of panic, expecting chaos and possibly even danger from the multitude of figures around him, but for reasons unknown, not even the slightest change did he see in their behaviour, and it was as though they had ears but could not hear.

Yet, the realization of their oblivion to the emergency provided him no comfort, for he had lived in the city long enough to understand that nothing here could exist without reason or purpose, and he knew with all certainty that this was no exception. Someone, or something, had been mobilized. As he prepared to escape from the scene, he began to notice an ensemble of sharp, erratic movements whenever he peered through the ever-shifting gaps in the crowd, and indeed, his fears were not unfounded.

With newly forged chains lashing about in their terrifying claws, they methodically barged a path toward him, their bodies armored in metallic plates shielding the intricate clockwork of cogs and bolts that invigorated their jerky, robotic movements. And although their faces were shrouded by inscrutable masks that bore the unearthly visages of lifeless puppets, making them indistinguishable from one another, their intentions were clear and their malice, obvious beyond question.

Without an inkling of hesitation, down the colourless streets he raced; a fugitive, scattering papers and knocking over coffees as he bumped his way through ranks and battalions of faceless individuals. His chains threshed about violently with each stride, constantly whipping themselves against his shins as though out to cripple him as the unforgiving hands of his pursuers reached out to capture him, but the more pain he felt pounding into his legs, the faster and faster he ran.

Riding on the winds of perseverance, he lunged through the multitudes, pressing on until he could no longer hear the relentless footsteps of the city’s enforcers chasing threateningly behind him, and as the stampede faded into the calm, he gradually regained his composure, leaving his fear behind in the trail of his opportune escape, and in the direction of his goal he continued to run without a single moment’s respite.

Beyond the exquisite gates of a decorated mansion his feet eventually came to rest, and so did his chains, but only briefly, for having realized the lack of any other alternative, up the gate he started to crawl, breathless but determined, restrained but proficient, with his limbs guided by a strange familiarity; a skill honed but never forgotten from years long past.

Over the gate he brashly threw himself, where after with a firm grip on the sturdy iron bars he momentarily suspended his upper body, preventing it from plunging down as his legs made a smooth crescent in the air, up and over the top, before finally finding their way fluidly back down to the ground on the other side. Flanked by majestic pines to his left and right, he felt the electrifying adrenaline fueling his steps as he blazed onward with destination finally within sight, and soon to be within reach.

Led by a pair of reckless hands, one on each of the two massive rosewood doors sealing the passage into the mansion, he mustered all his strength and pushed, his head wedged between his quivering shoulders and his toes, grating against the floor with his heels off the ground. And slowly but surely, the guardian doors began to part, growling coarsely in resistance as they adamantly clung to the posts of their original standings, but nonetheless, they were unable to resist the unbreakable will flowing through from his unrelenting heart to the faces of his palms, and to the fortitude of his spirit, they inevitably yielded.

Chains Chapter 3

He could always hear them before he saw them, and each time he heard the roar of their engines and the muted wailings of their propellers slicing through the air faster than any pinwheel ever could, his eyes would shine with excitement as he authoritatively reminded her not to be distracted, lest a single precious second of actually seeing them be lost.

Bursting through the clouds they would emerge, bringing with them a wave of euphoria that never failed to hoist them both to their feet despite the danger of falling from atop the nest of overlapping branches. The recklessness of their actions were hardly ever a consideration, eclipsed by the wonder and amazement that captivated them as shapes and patterns of all kinds began to manifest themselves in strokes of white drawn against the azure canvas of the open skies.

In circles and loops they would dance about freely, with tails stolen from the clouds trailing behind them, a scene so breathtaking, so inspiring that no doubt did he or she ever have that one day they too would roam across the skies, leaving their legacy written high above the earth wherever the tips of their wings grazed the heavens. It was a dream they both shared in their hearts, a dream that forged a bond stronger than chains of any kind between them, a dream that they would pursue hand in hand.

Yet now, here he was, standing with powerless hands enslaved in braids of woven steel, staring out toward the horizon in hopeless abandon and futile reminiscence. Instinctively, he closed his weary eyes in search of an escape from the reality that surrounded him, but still he could find no refuge from the immense weight of regret bearing down upon his heavy heart, and into the emptiness of his inner man he began to sink.

In the blackness of the void his mind wandered, groping around in the shadows for fragments of something from the long forgotten past, pieces buried beneath the sands of time. Through waves of memories he swam, searching high and low for a glimmer of hope, however faint, and there, in the happiest years of his childhood, he finally found it, amidst binding words spoken in youthful voices between them from a time when their hands were still small and free, and from the dying echoes of that promise, new courage therein he discovered.

Out of the darkness he emerged as he opened his eyes, only this time, reflecting in his gaze the same foolish faith and brash determination from once upon a time when atop an apple tree he did stand, admiring the sheer grandeur of the limitless sky as he waited in anticipation of their arrival. And driven by that overwhelming desire, out the room he charged, like an unstoppable bullet from a rifle’s barrel, sprinting down the hallway with the pantry, past the receptionist, down the twenty one flights of stairs, across the marble-floored lobby, out the rotating door and into the streets that lay beyond.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Chains Chapter 2

The twenty-second floor, past the receptionist on the right, down the hallway with the pantry, third room on the left. It was no where near as cozy or private as the corner office, but still it had its perks; a view of the city in all its splendor a mere swivel of a chair away from the old desk that stood as the centre piece of the entire room, but that was hardly any consolation for him, for it was in this very room that his shackles seemed particularly evident; particularly present.

Squarely between the doorframes he stood, gazing hard into the stillness and emptiness of it all, and like many other times before, he was once again bewildered at his endurance, his determination, his capacity for living like one pieced together of cogs and bolts instead of one born of flesh and blood. Without dwelling on it any further for fear of more questions to which he did not have the answers to, he took his rightful place behind the desk, feet crossed at the ankles as always, and prepared to open the first of many files stacked meticulously at the corner by his assistant. But for some reason unknown, today, unlike any other day, he just could not bring himself to continue.

Effortlessly, with a glancing motion of his fingers, he pushed against the corner of the desk while still seated, turning his back to the mundane repetition of the documents and papers. A moment of quiet contemplation ensued before he stood up to take a small step closer to the edge of his confines; a tinted panel of reinforced glass that stood between him and the world outside, a barrier strong yet in no way unbreakable.

Then down toward the busy streets he peered, where he saw streams of people scurrying about the cityscape like ants in an open-air ant mound, led by their briefcases, bounded at their wrists, without exception; every single one of them. And from the centre of his being, a barely audible sigh rose up and out of his chest, shattering the quiet stillness of the surrounding air as he re-aligned his vision to focus on the vague reflection of the metallic bindings that imprisoned him.

But then he tilted his chin up, leading his eyes away from the land below, and looked out toward the distant skyline from whence the sun had already risen; obscured by slander towers and overwhelming skyscrapers, yet still in no way anything less than beautiful. Mesmerized, he leaned forward even more until his nose was on the verge of touching the window, so close that he could feel his own breath arching back to stroke his lips as it rebounded off the cool, foggy glass. And in that manner, he started to remember.

Into the outskirts he would slip away when his parents were too preoccupied with their duties, and by the lonely apple tree that grew taller with each season at the city’s edge, the one overlooking the orchards that marked the start of the rural areas, he would find her waiting as they had always prearranged, dressed like a princess in her beautiful garbs with a bright smile on her face beaming with both joy and mischief, and much to his relief, not in the least bit angry in spite of his constant, unchanging tardiness.

Together, they would scale that tower of wood and falling leaves unrestrained, soiling their clothes and picking the occasional fruit along the way for a snack in reserve as they made their agile way up, and when they had finally climbed high enough, into the never-ending sapphire sky they would fixate their gaze for hours on end, hoping to catch a glimpse of what had always fascinated them both the greatest.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Chains Chapter 1

Chains

From all directions he could hear them as they sang in their cold, high-pitched voices, a cruel choir devoid of emotion, devoid of mercy. It was an empty song that he had long since grown accustomed to, but never fond of, much like everyone else, for there was no place where they could not be heard, and not one who wandered free from their hold amidst the dull, monochrome pavements and streets that formed the rigid foundations of the machine-like city.

Round both his wrists they coiled themselves, tighter than a serpent constricting the very life out of its prey, and down toward his feet they slacked in a lazy, shape-shifting curve, singing as they slithered with their bellies against the floor, oscillating toward and away from him with every step he took, his pace dictating the magnitude of their swings, but nothing more.

In the intensifying sunlight of early morning, their silver scales shimmered, reflecting blinding rays that danced about on concrete walls, granite floors and other surrounding surfaces, occasionally even right into his weathered face, compelling him to turn away as they pierced his tired eyes, almost as though they deemed it necessary to remind him of their obvious presence. And yet, there was nothing he could do in the face of their tyranny, and from them he could find no rest.

Like every other day that had already wandered by, down the main street he shuffled, unintentionally marching in step with everyone else as they dragged their bindings along, absent of will yet full of fabricated purpose. And when he finally came to the café, the one with the striped red umbrellas, he routinely picked up his coffee; the blackest and most bitter they had, before rejoining the parade for another two blocks, a stretch that always bore the greatest frustration for him; the frustration of a brand new day.

Crossing over from the street into the building was always a risky affair; the rotating door was never one for waiting, with its two conflicting currents of sharply dressed individuals moving in constant opposition of one another, demanding a certain precision in timing if he was to successfully pass through unscathed for the day. But the inescapable smell that greeted him almost immediately upon entrance was the one thing that never failed to sicken him and turn his stomach, and it was here that the coffee truly proved its usefulness.

The marble-floored lobby resembled that of a hotel in both form and fragrance, consciously designed to serve the same purpose of soothing the nerves, but nevertheless, for him, that familiar setting was only capable of construing images of words and numbers printed boldly against sheets and sheets of glaring white in the deepest recesses of his mind; images that he could not stand thinking about, much less endure seeing.

And shortly after his mind wandered into the snare of those thoughts, he would feel the unbearable weight of layers upon layers of primal, yet complex pressures bearing down upon his chest, manifesting themselves into a strange reluctance to step through the sliding doors of the elevator. Yet never once did he ever fail to take that step, albeit led by the logic of his mind and not by the callings of his heart.


Thursday, December 10, 2009

Endless Rain Dedication

Endless Rain was written
for all who have loved and lost.
I pray with all my heart that you
find comfort in these words.


Endless Rain Epilogue

The blaring sound of the horn could be heard from miles away, and the high-pitched screeching cry of its brakes, unmistakable. As the train gradually came to a stop beside the vacant platform, she carefully checked the destination on her ticket for the last time before standing up in preparation to alight.

Lifting her dainty but fashionable suitcase with both hands, she stepped off the train and onto the station grounds, where she was greeted by the magnificent sight of a field adorned with flowers of all colours and shades, bright and beautiful, great and small. A deafening blast of steam from the train’s engine boldly announced its departure and as the train pulled away from the station, a refreshing draft of wind that chased after it swept over her petite physique, coursing along the contours of her smooth, radiant skin.

Taken by surprise by the sudden gust of swift-moving air, she could not react in time to keep her lady-like hat from being carried away by the aerial currents trailing ever so closely behind the departing train and she quickly turned in hopes of snatching it back from the wind only to have it escape her grasp by the tip of her slander fingers. But alas, needless was her attempt to catch it, for just a short distance away from where she was, in the direction of where the train was now heading toward, down along the deserted platform … he caught it for her.

And there he was, just the way she remembered him to be, visibly full of love and adoration, unchanged and unchanging, and with tears of joy streaking unrestrained from her eyes, into his arms she plunged … only this time, for now and ever after.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Endless Rain Chapter 6

Her hearing was the first of her senses to return, and drifting into her ears she could recognize, were the gentle whispers of the breeze as it calmly washed over her. Then returned her sense of touch, which in affirmation of what she had been hearing all this time, enabled her once again to feel the tickle of the wind as it glided over her skin and through her hair. Her skin was dry and upon a soft interwoven layer of fabric she lay, but as soon as her sense of smell returned, the identity of the ‘fabric’ became clear.

The distinctive fragrance of grass that often rode upon the winds of summer and spring surrounded her, and with slow, deep breaths she indulged in its scent. And finally, as though opening her eyes for the first time like a newly born infant, she regained her sense of sight, with which in what had seemed like a cruel stretch of bleak, colourless years, she once again beheld the forgotten, serene beauty of the clear, azure sky.

While still lying down upon the field, she peered to the right through the emerald blades of grass briefly before sitting up to orientate herself, where soon after her eyes were naturally drawn to the spectacular view of the distant town painted against a canvas of lush greenery and open, blue skies.

In utter awe of the breathtaking view, she wondered to herself why she had never before noticed how beautifully the simplicity of the rural town blended into the natural landscape, creating the sense that it too had been there since the beginning with the mountains and the trees and the fields.

Then turning her face away from the town and toward the opposite direction, she set her eyes upon the weathered stone that had successfully stood its ground, deeply rooted in the soil behind the church in spite of the storm, the flood and the rain. Speaking to the stone in a dialogue without words, she looked intently upon his grave in a long moment of contemplation before finally rising up to her feet in preparation of her descent.

But this time, in place of the blackness of her solemn mourning gown, it was the white frills of her pretty summer dress that fluttered in the wind like the wings of a dove in flight as she made her way back down toward the town below.

Across the bridge that arched over the river she made her way, and having traversed the fabled river that since the days of old marked the furthest edges of town, she soon found herself once again amongst the alleys and streets, still visibly damp from the waters of the flood. She navigated her way through the network of footpaths until finally, at the familiar porch of her humble abode she arrived.

The violent floodwaters had receded, but the effects of their wrathful nature remained, for the elements had left the structure of the house significantly weakened and she knew just by a superficial visual inspection of the exterior that though the house was still standing, it would no doubt fall in the absence of large scale repair and restoration works.

So in her heart, she forged the resolution to save her house in remembrance of him, but not before first heading to the kitchen where she made herself a sumptuous meal with what food she could gather from the nearby bushes and trees.

Many days spent with saws and axes came and went. Then came those with rulers and other instruments of measurement, and those too soon came to pass. And finally, the tiring days spent with hammers and nails. Little by little, starting from the base, to the front steps, to the doors and windows, the pieces of the house started coming together again, and with each new break of day the house bore a stronger resemblance to its past self, just the way she remembered it to be; just the way he remembered it to be.

And when the exterior work had been completed, she occupied herself with the interior repairs of the house, starting from the floor and then the fireplace and then the kitchen, until finally the day came when the house was fully restored back to its original form, as though the rain had been nothing but a harmless nightmare that happened once upon a time, yet never did she ever forget how real it was.

Standing in the hall with her back squarely toward the freshly painted door and with the centerline of her body aligned with the midpoint of the reinforced fireplace, she began to draw a circle with her eyes, double checking and admiring the works of her hands while at the same time, pivoting about the spot where she stood in order to cover all areas of the house’s interior.

Feeling like she had finally fulfilled her promise to him to restore the house back to the way it used to be, she closed her eyes and nodded in acknowledgement of her own accomplishment, hoping with all her heart that he too could see the fruits of her labour, albeit from above. Yet still, there was one thing that had not been restored; a restoration that had in no way been forgotten, but rather, had deliberately been left for last.

In front of the wooden drawer that sat beside her bed she stood, with her head tilted down and her right hand on the rounded handle of the second shelf – the one that played storage to all things impractical but sentimental. Pulling on the latch with nothing more than a gentle tug, the drawer slowly began to slide open, creating a narrow slit through which she could get a glimpse of all the ‘memories’ that slumbered within.

The bright glimmer of the bracelet that could no longer fit her – the one that she used to wear wherever she went in her childhood years; the bunch of dried flowers picked three years ago from the garden outside that she could never, and was still unwilling to discard; just a few examples of the treasured symbols that as always, brought back vivid scenes of the past each time she laid eyes upon them. Yet at that moment, all that she could concentrate on was the unpolished frame that rested unevenly atop the pile of relics.

Lost in a web of thoughts interwoven with memories, she stared at the picture encased in the frame for a brief moment before instinctively stretching out her hand to touch it. Running her fingers gently along the glass panel that protected the photo within before drawing a line sideways to the frame itself, she carefully placed her thumb onto its corner while pressing the rest of her fingers against its underside to secure her grasp.

Cautiously lifting the frame out of the drawer, she drew the fragile memento into her bosom, embracing it like it was all that ever mattered to her, before finally setting it atop the drawer, overlooking the hall, so that she would never ever lose sight of him again.

And as she took a step back from the drawer, with her eyes still focused on the black and white image of him smiling at her, she could not resist returning him an expression of her own, and for the first time since the day that he departed up till now, she finally smiled.

Toward the window she turned, greeting the sunlight that was shining into the house, and with a smile that was even brighter than the day itself, she bade him goodbye and ran out into the beautiful streets of town like a bird of the air that had just had its wings unshackled.

Down the road that ran adjacent to the porch she ran and twirled and skipped, until she came to the meadow that they had once spent so many days together in, and even though he was not physically with her anymore, she knew that he would always be watching over her, and that thought alone was enough to fill her heart with joy and hope that knew no bounds; joy and hope that was sufficient enough for her to carry on.

And day after day, through streets and alleys, across rivers and bridges, atop hills and fields, in churches and cathedrals and into fountains and meadows she ran, and when she could run no more, she jogged, and when she could jog no more, she walked, and when she could walk no more, she strolled with the help of a short wooden cane.

Not a single day went by without her remembering and missing him, but not a dull day did she ever lead because she knew that that would have been what he would have wanted for her. And whenever she needed to feel close to him, a visit to the meadow she would pay, where she could sit alone for hours upon hours, and feel comforted by the memories of the unforgettable times that they shared.

And such a day it was in that beautiful autumn, where upon her rocking chair she sat, enveloped by the warmth of the fireplace upon returning from the meadows after reminiscing and remembering every little detail about him, from the sound of his laughter to the tenderness in his eyes. It was unusual for her to miss him so much even after having spent an afternoon in the meadows, but that thought alone was not enough to stop her from reaching out for the dusty, old frame that had sat atop the drawer by her bed all these years.

Giving a smile that was forged of both joy and sadness, she unsteadily drew a line over the glass that protected the photo within with her quivering, wrinkled fingers before embracing it in the same fashion as she did decades ago with emotions unchanged.

Looking at the memento one last time before placing it securely upon her lap, she finally closed her eyes in search of rest as thoughts of him once again began to turn into dreams …

And slowly but surely, the pauses between each and every one of her heartbeats grew longer and longer, and their echoes, softer and softer, until finally, they could no longer be heard …

---------------------------END -----------------------------------

Endless Rain Chapter 5

There he stood before her, just the way she remembered him to be. Against the backdrop of an ocean of rain that spanned far beyond the reach of her eyes, there he stood before her, in the ash-coloured sweater that she had knitted for him for his most recent birthday, the very same one that he wore each time they went outdoors and into the meadow.

In utter silence, she stared hard into his eyes, a stare which he returned with an expression so genuine, so sincere that it was impossible not to understand the emotions that were coursing through the deepest recesses of his heart.

His slightly furrowed brow so familiar, the one that gave him away each time he was feeling sad, and his lips, subtly pressed together tighter than usual, like how he always used to do whenever he felt sympathy for something or someone; she could read them all as though they were begotten of her own emotions. And there she stood, with her hand in his, perfectly still, incapable of any words or thoughts, and for that moment and that moment alone, it felt like Time had stayed its hand.

Unshifting in his gaze, he gradually loosened his grip on her wrist, and as though knowing that he did not have much time left, whispered a single word into her ear before fully releasing his hand from hers. Like a balloon separated from the hand that holds it grounded to the earth, he began to float into the sky in opposition of the falling rain, and further and further away he started to grow from her.

Still in a state of shock but not wanting to be apart from him again, she began to chase after him, fighting through the torrent which had now grown stronger and more merciless than ever before, with her feet running along the surface of the floodwaters as though it were a mere plane of reinforced glass.

Toward the heavens she stretched out her hands, her fingers begging him not to leave, but no matter how fast she ran or how high she leapt, she could not reach him and was only able to look on powerlessly through blurry eyes as he ascended higher and higher into the clouds until finally, he could no longer be seen.

Crushed by the unbearable sorrow of his inevitable departure, she felt her energy to continue the pursuit quickly fading, consumed by the emotional void that had taken root within her. Like a house built upon shifting sands, she crumbled down atop the waters with both her knees pointing inward, a vivid replica of a doll severed from the strings of its marionette.

With fists clenched so tightly that they began to turn pale from the lack of blood, she gave a loud wail which subdued and echoed over the sound of the roaring rain, and for the first time since she had lost him, the shine of a tear appeared in full at the corner of her eye.

For the heartache of not ever being able to have him by her side anymore, she screamed. For the pain of never being able to hold him in her arms again, she cried. And for all the things that she wanted to say to him but never had a chance to say, she wept.

Streams of tears began to flow forth from her bright, blue eyes, streaking down the sides of her face as she called out into the sky for that which she had always held most dear, and shifting not a single inch from where she sat, on and on she wept like never before in that state of utter brokenness, for no greater pain had she ever known since the day she was born.

Meandering along the skin of her cheeks, her teardrops gracefully trickled their way down to her chin, where momentarily they suspended themselves like stalactites hanging from the inner canopies of a cave before finally falling off her face and into the waves which she so divinely sat above. But in her darkest hour of grief and despair, a miracle beyond her wildest expectations began to unfold before her once again.

As the first of her tears plunged down toward the ocean, skimming the water’s surface, a faint light started to form where both waters met and joined, and as more tears found their way into the ocean of rain, stronger and brighter the light continued to shine and flourish until centred upon her body, a pillar that rose all the way up into the sky it became; a sanctuary of light that enveloped her entire being and shielded her from the storm.

And at that very moment, although she could no longer open her eyes in the midst of the blinding light, she knew with full certainty that an exceptional change had already began to take place with far greater things trailing in its shadow.

Endless Rain Chapter 4

Severed from her will, her physical body was now incapable of moving, but strangely, all manner of sensations could it still feel. Methodically and rhythmically, an icy coldness started to creep its way up her body, rising up to a point and then subsiding slightly before stretching even further up each time; beginning with her toes, and then spreading to her thighs and then to her spine, and wherever the ‘frost’ ascended up to, it replaced the frantic tingle of raindrops that reached down through her garments and unto her skin.

In her imagination, through the eye of her mind, she saw an image of herself from above, as though she were perched atop the rattling roof of the patched-up church, looking down at her very own body, and in that image she saw that the floodwaters had already risen up to her shoulders.

And yet, as though oblivious to the threat of drowning, all she could think of at that moment was how much she missed the blissful days that remained blissful regardless of the weather or the time or the season that she had so happily spent together with him once upon a time.

But short-lived was her dream; her delusion, for then came a pivotal moment that abruptly ended the wanderings of her mind, a turning point that cruelly snatched her back from the sweet escapism of her memories, a wake-up call triggered by the horrifying feeling and reality of suffocation.

The sudden realization that she no longer had access to air brought with it a sense of fear and anxiety so deep that it practically forced her back to consciousness. Eyelids springing open almost instantly, with a wide-eyed stare she struggled to understand the plight that had crept up and surrounded her in the confusion of her sub-consciousness.

An ever-shifting, poorly focused image of the cloudy sky she now beheld, and drawn over it was an unstable, transparent veil of light blue; a veil that was perpetually being decorated by rings of a uniform size appearing and disappearing upon its surface like tiny fireworks erupting across festive skies.

Consciousness and awareness of mind she had regained, but physical mobility and strength of body she had not, and completely submerged, she drifted helplessly mere inches beneath the surface of the floodwaters, with the distance between her and her only hope of survival growing larger and larger as she continued to sink deeper into the unfathomable depths of the sea of rain.

In resignation of her inevitable fate, her panic began to ebb away, displaced by another emotion – one of greater strength, and the look in her eyes, now absent of fear and desperation, softened to reveal the pain and sorrow that had remained hidden all this time from the day of his departure up till now.

Numbed to the physical torture of being on the verge of drowning by the superceding agony of the untreated wounds bleeding on the inside of her broken heart, she once again lay in total surrender to the rain, with her visage tilted up toward the sky and with her hands stretched out in the same manner as one who had just been crucified, but this time, she did not feel the rain beating down upon her skin.

Teetering at the precarious edge of life while leaning toward the uncertainty of what lay beyond, in her final moments she witnessed the approach of the vague shadow of a hand, with palm opened wide and fingers outstretched, plunging down toward her as though being the very hand of Death itself reaching out to claim her weeping soul. Around her wrist it latched on tightly, with a firm yet unexpectedly gently grip, and from out of the floodwaters it drew her up in a single swift and unbroken motion.

As her head emerged through the sparkling ceiling of water, she instinctively took in a huge breath, inhaling so deeply that her shoulders were raised right up next to her chin. Uncontrollably, she continued to gasp for air in between bouts of prolonged coughing, furiously filling her lungs with oxygen while expelling the excessive water that had forcefully flooded its way into her respiratory system.

Leaning forward as though she were on the verge of collapse, with one hand resting heavily just below her collarbone and with her body being held up by the wrist of the other hand, she cleared the water out of her eyes with a hard blink and with face still pointed toward her feet, saw a sight so surreal that it made her unsure of whether her mortal life had already come to an end.

Beneath her soles lay the floodwaters, now towering high above any structure in the town, and still falling from above her was the rain that had not subsided to any lesser a degree, but nonetheless, what she saw amazed her beyond all things thus far, for her feet were set upon the surface of the water as though they were set upon dry, solid land, and upon the face of the water she stood, steady and unwavering like a sturdy ship anchored firmly at port.

In search of an answer to the unexplainable circumstances that she now found herself a part of, she unknowingly raised her head in a quick arch, looking up at whoever or whatever had rescued her from the abysmal depths of the deluge, but what she saw upon doing so was in no way an answer, but rather the start of many more questions.

Endless Rain Chapter 3

Waist deep in the rising floodwaters, she waded her way frantically through the partially submerged town in search of higher ground, but to no avail. All she could see in front of her then were rows and rows of houses, just like her own, slowly disappearing from the bottom up as the water levels continued to ascend.

Deep inside her mind, she knew that if things were to continue as they were, she would soon have to swim to keep herself above the water surface; a thought which compounded the weight of the fear that was already bearing down upon her racing heart, for far was she from being an adept in water.

But in her state of worsening panic, a familiar scene she suddenly recalled. A scene of many colours splashed across a canvas of stone and grass, one of tiled roofs, and chimneys and wind vanes that twirled ever so freely in the changing winds. It was the town as seen from above, from a place of higher altitude that made the lawns and houses look like miniatures in a toy shop.

It was the view of the town that she had seen from atop the hill, where the old rustic church stood humbly against the backdrop of the majestic sky. And now, that old rustic church was the only refuge that she could think of, for having been born and raised in the town all her years, she knew that there was nothing else in the vicinity that was taller than the cross that sat above the stained glass windows, glimmering like the inside of a kaleidoscope on the roof of the house of the Most High.

Pressing forward through the storm with all the strength she could muster, she made her way without a single moment of rest through the canals that now ran between the town structures in place of the lanes and cobbled stone roads. Across the flooded city square she traversed, where she was met midway at the weathered fountain by the unsettling sight of a faintly blue flower head, falling lifelessly from one side to another in accordance with the movements of the undercurrents amidst the yellow stone base of the fountain.

Fearing that the same misfortune that had befallen the flower would come to claim her next, she further quickened her pace for the remainder of the journey and eventually arrived at the foot of the hill amidst waters that reached right up to the bottom of her chin.

Desperately filling her lungs through short, shallow breaths, her hands, driven by the primal fear of her nose and mouth being submerged, quickly latched themselves onto the grassy slopes of the hill, which she then used to pull herself up and out of the merciless grasp of the fast rising waters, albeit with much difficulty.

Stumbling up the hill on legs aching and unsteady from overexertion, she found it nothing short of impossible to keep herself from slipping as she made her ascent up the lush, green slopes, which although were not of steep incline, had now become excessively slippery with a gigantic web of little streams running down along them in all directions.

But still she did not resign to her fate and continued to flee from the roaring waters that adamantly chased behind her. Toward the church she climbed and climbed, her momentum constantly broken by slips and falls along the way, and when she could climb no more, she began to crawl, but still the endless rain did not relent and instead, grew unimaginably stronger and heavier.

As she drew closer and closer to the unmistakable silhouette of the cross atop the church, the environment around her started to break up into darkened shapes, swirling into a convoluted array of green, grey and black. Her head was heavy one second and light the next, and her skin a ghastly shade of white that contrasted with the drenched, black garments that shrouded her cold, quivering body. Instinctively, she resisted the darkness that was closing in from the edges of her sight and continued to crawl and crawl until eventually, she found herself at the back of the overshadowed abbey.

Her body had reached its limit. A single arm’s length away from his gravestone she laid, paralyzed both physically and mentally, and as she reached toward that which stood deeply rooted in the ground in memory of him, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier till they became too heavy for her to keep from closing, and into the darkness she slipped for resist it no more was she able to do.

Endless Rain Chapter 2

As the chimes of the clock hanging on the wall sang to welcome the hour of midnight, there she sat in front of the crackling fireplace with both knees close to her chest and a black hand-knitted blanket draped over her shoulders with its edges overlapping in front of her, covering a great deal of her body from the neck down.

Blankly, she gazed into the heart of the fire where the charred wood was gradually being consumed to keep the fire from burning out, but the warmth it emitted was barely enough to keep her body from shivering under the layers of cloth that she had already cocooned herself in.

The sounds of the rain lingered on persistently, finding their way into the house through closed doors and windows left ajar, and despite having been ongoing since the early afternoon of the day, showed no signs of relent or retreat. Rising up from the floor with blanket still held fast around her petite physique, she shuffled in the midst of her shivering toward the old wooden bed at the corner of the room.

Back toward the wall, she lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed in preparation to lie down, but had her initial intentions abruptly disrupted as she unsuspectingly turned her eyes toward the dusty frame that rested atop the small drawers beside the head of the bed.

It had been taken two years ago, in the meadow mere minutes down the street that ran adjacent to the front porch of her house. And though the shadows that were cast about on the inner walls of the room obscured most of the memento including their faces, she had previously spent enough time looking at it for a mere glimpse of the corner of the self-decorated frame to be enough to bring to mind the full image of its contents in vivid detail.

Scenes of the past started to flow through her mind uninvited and uncontrollably, but their allure was hard to refuse and she soon found herself wishing once again for a time that she could no longer return to. Her awareness of the futility of such thoughts guided her hand steadily forward to seize the shade-covered frame, and without looking directly at it, led her to pull open the drawer that lay beneath, wherein she gently placed the frame out of her line of vision, in the very same drawer that stored some of the things that she had kept from long ago but had no longer any use for.

Slowly with her fingertips, she pushed against the front of the open drawer till she heard the soft thud of wood colliding against wood, and after a short pause, lifted her hands off the surface of the drawer before she raised her legs unto the bed to lie down with her face toward the wall. For the first time since that fateful day, her eyes glimmered with sadness, but only for a brief second, for shortly after she closed them in search of slumber and rest which she did not find till the early hours of the next morning.

An entire day slipped her by while she lay in bed asleep, and then another while she lay awake, but still she found herself unwilling to draw away from the solace provided to her by the sheets on which his familiar scent did faintly remain.

Lacking the will and necessity for any other action, she had every reason and intention to stay in bed indefinitely; every reason except that her body was still one of flesh and blood, one that was incapable of surviving in the absence of all else but sleep and air, one that was now violently making its needs for sustenance and nourishment known.

A burning sensation gushed up within her from the centre of her being, tearing first through her chest and then her throat and then almost right up into her mouth before it started to make its way back down toward the depths of her deprived stomach. The hunger was unbearable and she cringed as she forced herself up off her back in preparation of finding her way to the kitchen in search of something that was still edible, if even barely so.

The frigid sensation that soon met with her feet was one that she had not expected. Instead of the high pitched voice of the creaky wooden floor that she had long grown accustomed to listening out for in the mornings, she heard nothing but a deep toned splash coming from beneath as her feet sank unsuspectingly into a thick, seemingly stagnant layer of liquid.

Eyes widened by both the cold and the unexpected, she peered over the edge of the bed and gasped at what she saw. The sudden realization that the sound of the rain which was still ongoing at that time, had not for once subsided throughout her days of inactivity then came crashing down upon her.

Flustered and overwhelmed by anxiety, she leapt off the bed and into the flood waters that rose up to the middle of her calves. In a swift and uninterrupted stroke of her arm, she grabbed a coat which she could use to protect herself with from the piercing winds and ran toward the front door of her house, her steps higher than usual in an effort to overcome the resistance that the water was persistently imposing upon her movements.

Panting and short of breath, she lunged forward to grab hold of the rusty doorknob with a single hand, but in a moment of hesitation, was compelled to turn back to look at the drawer in which she had placed the memory of him and her mere nights ago. The water was entering into the house at a faster rate than ever, and as fear got the better of her, she abandoned the thought of going back to retrieve the memento and pulled open the door, leaning back and leveraging upon all her body weight to overcome the waters that were in opposition of everything that she was now trying to do.

When she had created an opening big enough for herself to fit through, she squeezed her way out into the streets of town, but those too had also been submerged and the rain continued to fall from the sky above, slowly consuming all that was upon the land below.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Endless Rain Chapter 1

Endless Rain

And slowly but surely, the pauses between each and every one of his heartbeats grew longer and longer, and their echoes, softer and softer, until finally, they could no longer be heard …

Like a quick flash of light, a mere lapse in time did it seem from the moment his heart became silent to the moment she was now encased in. Under overcast skies, with a veil gently caressing her face each time a breeze passed her by, there she stood silently at the back of the church, in front of the newly erected gravestone in memory of what now lay beneath the layers of dirt and soil.

Her face wore no emotion, with neither the hint of a frown on the edge of her lips nor the sparkle of a tear in her eyes. Downward she gazed, as though looking out toward the horizon far beyond the open sea, except that present before her was nothing but earth and grass within the grasp of her fingers if she were only to care enough to kneel down to reach for them.

As groans of thunder began to echo toward her from distant skies, she bade him farewell and turned toward the same path that she had taken earlier on during her ascent up the grass-adorned hill. The black edges of her gown fluttered in the wind like the wings of a raven in flight as she made her solemn descent back down toward the town below.

Through quiet alleys and cobbled-stone streets she wandered, void of conscious purpose but subconsciously in the general pull of her home. So deep in thought was she that her senses were unnaturally late in realizing the drastic change in the atmosphere that had already occurred midway through her aimless journey.

One by one, on the ground all around, a collage of darkened spots had began to form, threatening to overshadow it entirely in due time. A sudden and ominous howl of wind was what was necessary to bring her back to her senses, at least momentarily, and without the slightest display of anxiety or worry, she readied her umbrella in her own time.

Hands moving instinctively in opposite directions, with her right hand on the lacquered wood curved handle and her left beneath the intricate ring of spokes hidden out of view, she raised the umbrella up toward the sky and opened it. As the dull sound of liquid drops dancing on the parchment canopy overhead reached her ears, she was finally able to register in her mind the identity of the curtain of water that had lowered from the skies, imposing itself upon her view of the surroundings. It had begun to rain.

Footstep after footstep, with soles continuously breaking up the surfaces of shallow puddles, she walked on and on and unknowingly found herself in the vast emptiness of the city plaza, where a dried up fountain stood in the middle of the square, surrounded by walls of individually distinct buildings in all four directions.

The fountain had been inactive for as long as she could remember, and indifferent of it had she since grown from the many times that she had walked by it, yet as she looked at it once again, an unexplainable connection to it there now was; one that she had never felt before.

Toward the fountain she slowly drifted, and to her slight puzzlement, an unexpected flash of blue amidst the yellow aged stones of the fountain’s base was there to meet her eyes when she finally did arrive at the edge of the lifeless structure.

On the verge of wither, its sun-scorched petals began to sway as they came into contact with the falling drops of water, and as those drops grew heavier and more frequent, its slender stem, ever more vigorously, oscillated from side to side, creating a paradoxically lively display of the faded shades of blue and green. Its jubilance was obvious and many long days must it have endured while in want of any nourishment from the silver skies above. With face unchanged, she continued to stare while the once faded beauty of the flower began to be restored before her very eyes.

Subtly and silently, her fingers slowly loosened the firm grip they had on the wavering stem of her source of shelter, and before long, uncoiled themselves totally, in perfect unison of one another, abandoning that which she had defended herself from the elements with up until now.

Floating away on the frivolous currents of the wind, her umbrella took flight almost immediately upon leaving her hands, drifting slightly higher into the air for a short while before cascading down into an earthbound trajectory, where after it reached the ground, pirouetted like a young ballerina with hands outstretched for a few times before finally coming to rest about a yard away.

Without hesitation, the rain enveloped her, dousing her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. A flurry of splashes erupted from the edges of her smooth, youthful skin, with thousands upon thousands of raindrops greeting her into their presence simultaneously and continuously.

Her palms, held out just a short distance away from her hips, were facing skyward in total surrender, and her neck, arched slightly backward, tilted her visage upward in perfect alignment to meet the rain face to face. And there she stood, in that manner with almost no other movement throughout the course of the entire evening.