The View from the top
As she looked over the edge her heart jumped frantically, The butterflies in her stomach leapt around in frantic somersaults and the breath caught in her throat.
All the way up, each time she'd wavered she'd told herself that the prize was worth the effort. It had been a difficult climb, so many twists and turns on the route. She seemed to have stumbled from one ridge to the next, sometimes getting closer at others seeming to retreat into the distance.
Now finally having made it, she could smell the change in the air and she was excited, but she was so afraid. The wonderous view she'd anticipated was obliterated as the bile rose in her throat and she was swamped with waves of nause. Had she really come so far just to be overwhelmed by virtigo.
It had never occured to her on the way up that once she reached the summit she'd have a long way to fall. Now she couldn't think about anything else. "Breathe" she told herself, slowly bringing her iron will to bear on her treacherous body.
Slowly she straightened as she regained control. Any minute now it would be time, her star had risen and she would ride it to the end. "Places" she heard a voice call and she pinned a smile onto her face and stepped forward onto the stage.
Lesser of two evils
As she pulled out the knife and wiped the blade clean I looked at her in horror and disbelief. "How could you do that?" I gasped "You killed him."
She smiled as she looked down at me, a sad and knowing smile. "Oh little one you are so innocent. It was the lesser of two evils, some people just cannot be allowed to live".
I struggled with this concept. She'd always taught me that life was sacred to be reverred and just now without compuction I'd seen her take away a life, quickly and efficiently. "I do not understand" I whispered "Why did it have to be this way."
Gently she wrapped her arms around my shoulder and led me to a chair. "I wish you did not have to understand" she exclaimed. "We live here in this ivory tower untouched by the world below and do not see the evil that is perpetrated in our name."
For many hours she talked to me. Opening my eyes to a world that I struggled to believe.
Time
New shoes
Today I get my new shoes and I am so excited. These will be special shoes, pretty shoes magic shoes and I can't wait. "Mummy, mummy can we go yet? Do I really get to choose my own shoes? Promise?".
She said yes, Wheee, I think I'll run around in circles for a few minutes for the pure joy. Spinning and spinning around, and around I go until I hit the ground with a bump. New shoes, pretty shoes, most important thing in my world shoes.
No doctor shoes, no getting feet measured and waiting weeks for them to be made shoes. No black clumpy leather shoes. I don't need them any more. No more visits to the shoe doctor, no more feet stretching, lying for hours with the weights attached just to make my feet better. No more boredom with painful feet. But most of all no more doctors shoes.
I've seen the pair I want, so pretty. Soft, purple, magical shoes with little daisies on the strap. Mummy says they're not very practical but I can have them just this one time. I've wanted these shoes for so long. Every time we've gone shopping I've pressed my nose to the window, gazing at them with longing and asking mummy if we can have them yet. And each time she's said not yet, not until the doctor says so. I was so afraid that they'd be gone before the doctor said yes.
And yesterday he said yes and I kissed him. Mummy laughed that silly embarassed laugh she has, and the doctor looked like he was going to fall over in surprise. But I didn't care because I'm getting my pretty shoes. My first ever pair of pretty shoes.
Minute by Minute
Time passes slowly by, the second hand reluctantly crawling it's way across the clock face as I watch, unable to tear my eyes away as it slowly and relentlessy approaches the hour set for my execution.
Just ten minutes left and I want to scream at the clock. "Hurry up, hurry up". Waiting is such torture. Minute by minute the fear builds inside my stomach now empty from the desperate wretching just an hour ago when they came to say that my final appeal had been turned down and I would not be granted another stay of execution.
I gues I knew really that hope was dead. So many appeals, so many stays withing a few hours. I'd never come this close before and I seem to waver between fear at what is about to happen and relief that finally I would be jumping of the dizzy roundabout of hope born from appeal followed by desperation as the hope is snatched away.
Time.
Point of contact
I picked it up carefully and began to polish. I drank in the feeling of handling such a pretty piece, the warm wooden handle a sharp contrast to the cool metal barrell. As my fingers moved deftly around the mechanism, removing every speck of dust and moisture it amused me that such a delicate toy could have such lethal consequences.
For a moment my gaze fell to my husband lying on the floor, so still and quiet now. And I remembered the pleasure I'd felt at finally stilling his vicious roar. The horror on his face when he'd seen what I held in my hands. The satisfaction deep inside as the tiny hammer hit the point of contact and he fell backwards almost in slow motion.
He didn't die instantly. He lay there groaning holding himself together in total disbelief. Just once he whispered "help me" then fell silent.
Time
Flirting with disaster
One step, two step, turn the right. Creep silently along the ledge. Now pull up, turn and jump. Shimmy to the side and jump again. Now run, darting left and right, avoid the darts whistling past from the tubes in the walls, dive and roll and she's through the door just in time.
Be careful, parts of the floor collapse when walked upon. Keep a sharp eye out for traps. Race the giant boulder, leap and grab, just hanging on by the fingertips. Get out those guns and aim down, a crocodile, a bear, lions, gorillas, in one area even dinosaurs.
The dangers are almost limitless though in some strange way predictable. Jumps, falls, lava, spikes, animals, even occasionally a man with a gun. Somebody sure knew how to keep the adrenaline levels flowing. Looking back once again I notice her bouncing stride as she shimmy's forward. Lara Croft sure likes to flirt with disaster.
Time
Another Planet
They never did really understand her. Much as they tried her motivations remained hidden to them. They tried to imagine themselves in her place, subject to all the pressures she faced. Their experience was so far from hers they might as well have been from another planet.
They were raised in an easy going town, nominally christian but nobody too fussed about religion. Most people made the effort to go to church on Sundays, though there were a substantial numaber who were only seen within the hallowed walls for weddings, funerals and christenings and nobody thought any of the less of them for it.
On the whole theirs had been a lawful town though nobody took too much notice of the occasional drunk, and rumour had it that in the east side there was a brothel. Hers was the first murder trial the town had seen in almost a century.
The daughter of fundamentalist parents who'd condemmed as sin every little pleasure that might have brightened her life. Forced to live in a manner that stiffled every atom of creativity and independence. A spirit as wild as hers was bound to break free in one way or another.
Her strong stubborn will had clashed time and time again with her fathers. Refusing to simply obey for the sake of obedience.
Time
Snow
I watch it now through the window, giant flakes tumbling down like feathers shed from Angels Wings. It is so beautiful but so icy cold looking.
I pull my jumper closer together and tuck the blanket that covers my legs tighter around me blocking out all drafts. I am grateful for the glow of heat that radiates from the fire in front of me. Small sparks jump about and the fire talks to me in a language of cracks and hisses.
Safe and warm inside I watch the wild weather battling outside on my window. One part of me glad to be snug inside sheltered from it's icy touch. Another part remembering how it felt to be out, running in the snow, to snap on my skies and glide over it's sleek surface in a ballet of elegant motion. On days like this I could almost learn to love the snow again despite what it did to me.
I give a little shudder not of cold, but of remembrance. I have felt the awesome power of angry snow, heard it rushing down the mountainside behind me. Run a desperate race, fleeing for safety and in that moment of losing heard it's angry roar as it swallowed me up.
I remember the snow clogging my throat and scraping my eyes .....
Time
Monkey World
John swung around the pipe with a great cry of glee, then he launched himself outwards, appearing to fly through the air. For a moment it looked like he'd misjudged the flight and falling short of his target would fall to the earth. At the last second his strong arm flew out, his fingers tangled in strong fibres and he pivoted with a jerk pulling his body in to meet the cargo net.
He hung there on the net his breath coming in quick pants of exertion and excitement, then he looked around and gestured for the others to follow him.
The adventure playground had been up now for about six months. From the first day it had attracted all the neighbourhood children. Though there had been some initial jostling for position, Johnny's daring, and bravado had soon won him the leadership.
To start with the adventure playground had been a pirate ship for them, they climbed the rigging of the cargo nets and watched for ships to attack from the crows nest at the top but recently that game had paled and Johnny feeling his grasp on his gang slipping away had discovered a new game.
The adventure playground soon became their monkey world and they swung and leaped from item to item. Just recently this too was beginning to pall and Johnny lead them into taking bigger and bigger risks, leaping just that little bit further, stretching higher and higher.
It was obvious that some of the group were finding it difficult to keep up especially ...
Time
Windswept
She stood there on the hill waiting. The wind whipped her hair viciously around her face lashing her cheecks and pulled at her clothes as if to dislodge her from her pose. But she ignored, almost did not seem to notice the cruel fingers of the wind and calmly waited. She almost seemed to create a little bubble of serenity around her through which no turbalance could penetrate.
Nobody knew for what she waited but everyone recognised her. The watcher on the hill they called her. At dawn each day she rose and took her place on the brow of the hill. As the last specks of light drained from the sky she returned to her cottage as if that for which she waited would only arrive by the light of day.
She did not seem to work, or shop or go about any other business but wait, and yet she was obviously fed, and her clothes well tended. It was whispered that she was cared for by the little ones of the forest, and she could certainly be mistaken for a creature of the wild, always dressed in green which exaggerated her dainty sylph like appearance.
She'd been waiting now for as long as anyone could remember, and yet from a distance she still seemed to be as young and fresh as the day she first took her place on the hill.
Time
Flight of Fancy
Watch their wings swoop powerfully up and down as their streanlined bodies power through the air. Their elegant motions a complicated dance as they seem to follow set routines, synchronised swimmers of the air.
I stand here on the ground looking up at them. My crippled body condemmed by heartless fate to this ungainly chair. And yet I fly with the geese. My unchained spirit floats free and I swoop and soar through the air with them.
Since the accident my mind and spirit have taken to adventuring free on many occasions. The first time I realised that I was flying with the geese looking down at the shell which normally housed me the realisation brought me crashing back to land in my body with a startled bump. At first I thought it had been a dream and dismissed it
Time
