Exercises
“In the void”
In the void of madness she stood overlooking the
highway from her terrace. Below, cars created a cacophony all their own
– horns blowing, tires screeching, engines humming, traffic cops
yelling.
An arm snaked around her waist. She tilted her head
toward the face of a sinewy fellow with a scruffy face and calm eyes.
Noise held no place for her in this moment. The sky smiled, the sun
felt like a warm hug.
Miraculous, considering one year ago
almost to the day she’d suffered the loss of her city, her home.
External forces beyond anyone’s real or imagined control had stolen the
principles her country stood for in a series of actions lasting no more
than a few hours. Loss, like a lover with ulterior motives, can elude
meaning. Only though its aftermath can healing begin.
She
squeezed her body against his scrawny arms. Bony and angular, they
still felt more protective to her than those of a linebacker. It was
the exposed glint in his countenance that allowed her to feel safe even
when the nightmares attacked. Sometimes their absence was an unwelcome
void she’d grown entirely too accustomed to the pain. Its comfort
reminded her how to feel when she’d lost the ability amid the whirpool
of memories swirling like Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” in her mind’s eye.
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Non-fiction writer with a penchant for story-telling.
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Synopsis
Short piece.
A Word from the Writer
Based on 9/11.
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