The Start of Part 2

Posted On July 3, 2020

Every time I glanced at the clock today, it was 2 hours later. I got home from the barn at 9, fixed breakfast, then looked at my emails. Then it was 11. I worked on edits, stopped at 1 for lunch, then went to the store. I got home, wiped everything down, put stuff away, and it was 3. I went to the barn, stopped at another store, picked up dinner, and it was 5. Finished dinner, took care of 2 little tasks, jumped on FB, and now it’s 7. I’m grateful for every day, for every hour when I’m pain free, when my girls are safe and happy, when I have money in my purse and the bank, when there’s food in the fridge and gas in my car, when something happens and I smile or laugh, when I have cool water to drink and warm water to bathe in.

Maybe because at certain times I’m more aware of the moments that the hours and days slip by. I know the older I’ve gotten, the faster the time goes. And perhaps when our attention is pulled outside our little world, we realize the day, the month, the year, and we take a moment to look back, then forward, as if in both directions on an abandoned road in the middle of nowhere, and we make a decision…or several…and maybe we take a step forward, realize there’s a pebble in our shoe, so we pause to remove it, and while we’re bent over, it starts to rain, but we’re not worried because we’re hot and the rain is cool. We begin walking, wondering if we can catch a ride and make the journey a little easier, but we know no one picks up hitchhikers these days. A little while later we realize the rain wasn’t such a good idea because now our clothes feel heavy and we’re getting chaffed in various places. But the wetness will evaporate, if the sun was shining, but darkness has fallen and we’re getting cold. Maybe it’s a full moon so we can see where we’re going…but then we hear howling in the distance and think maybe werewolves are real after all, and we begin looking for a stick or a rock in case something comes at us and we can defend ourselves. We see something on the ground in the middle of the road and squint to get a clearer picture. We think it’s a stick, but it’s really a rope, or maybe a snake, but not a poisonous snake…so we pick up the rope thinking it’s better than nothing, and we keep walking, our clothes stiff, the chaffing getting worse but we try to ignore it, blisters on our feet because, well, wet shoes and sloshy socks and walking and walking and walking…the moon rises, then we see a light in the distance, but it’s not a car, and we’re both relieved and disappointed, it’s not a wildfire, and we’re glad we’re not breathing smoke and worried about animals and people making it to safety, and then we see it’s a house, but we’re not sure if it’s a safe house or where evil resides, so we don’t know if we should go to the house and knock on the door or keep walking on the road in the cold night with wet clothes and blisters and chaffing and howling that seems to be closer than it was and with no one around…then we glance at our cell phones-no service, of course-but we see the date and the time. Midnight, July 1, 2020. What do you do?

Written by Michele Venne

Writer of immersive and intriguing stories.

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