A Storm: A Reverie
A short story. The sky darkens. I see flashes of lightning from my cracked window. The door rumbles as the winds try to overpower it. I can hear the familiar ripples of water. I know it's my stone bowl. I run to it. My Eternal self smiles in it; smiles at me. It's gentle yet uncanny. His arms gently appear on the rhythmic surface and his fingers point toward the door. "Go." The doors seem to be trying to open, not because of the wind but because they want to. Oh, they want me to step out. "I am ready." I pulled out a knife I had kept inside the water bowl. My Eternal self that I could see on the surface did not disappear. It looked at me with a calming intensity. As the doors gently swing open against the shock thrusting of the raging wind, I can hear something. It wants me to, listen, instead. Not simply hear. It's a soft play of the piano. It's preparing me not for action but for the right inner containment I must invoke. And hold throughout. It f...