Burqa
She knew what she wanted, she thought. And what she didn’t want. What she didn’t know was if she could settle for in-between. It was the in-between that hung around her like a shroud, a burqa, a barrier between her and all that was real. Too dense and clingy to fight through most of the time, but if she didn’t want to settle for it, shouldn’t she at least try to wrestle her way out of it? Despite the effort it took?
Frequently, in pursuit of daily necessities, she was able to ignore the folds of fabric that were choking her consumption of her life. But then as night drew in, and time grew quiet, the shroud began to make its creeping presence known. It began to feel more like what she didn’t want than the in-between of neither state. So what was the difference? It became a blur, and what she didn’t want became more of a probability for her life ahead.
One day there arrived a glimpse of what could be, what she wanted. She went with it. She rolled in it, reveled in it, and her smile enveloped her body. She knew too, when applying rationality to the moment, that it was no more than a fleeting glance, yet still she knew that it was right to seize it and be there, laughing in the now. In the then. For fleeting it was. And then it was gone.
Until the next time.
Frequently, in pursuit of daily necessities, she was able to ignore the folds of fabric that were choking her consumption of her life. But then as night drew in, and time grew quiet, the shroud began to make its creeping presence known. It began to feel more like what she didn’t want than the in-between of neither state. So what was the difference? It became a blur, and what she didn’t want became more of a probability for her life ahead.
One day there arrived a glimpse of what could be, what she wanted. She went with it. She rolled in it, reveled in it, and her smile enveloped her body. She knew too, when applying rationality to the moment, that it was no more than a fleeting glance, yet still she knew that it was right to seize it and be there, laughing in the now. In the then. For fleeting it was. And then it was gone.
Until the next time.
posted by Vicky | 11:41 PM
3 Comments:
Great extended metaphor, Vicky. Is this the same person as in the other piece? What I would do: experiment with making this a poem. Then back to prose. Back to poem. Back to prose. See what happens.
Thanks for the advice, Theresa. I'll try it. And yes, I am gradually building a character. I think I may try adding some aspects in the light of day so she isn't all dark!
This is going beautifully!
V
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