FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE WELL, HOPE RISES
She lay there at the bottom of the well without a clue as to how she got there. She does not remember the fall or how long she has been there. But long enough that she has forgotten how to climb. Her mind is numb, almost dead. She cannot formulate thoughts. She has forgotten how to smile. Tears fall unconsciously as the only symbol of emotion. She has to remind herself to breathe. She never thought an involuntary action would take such an effort.
She has become accustomed to the dark. He has become her constant companion. Her frenemy – more foe than friend, if you ask me. As she lingers here, embraced by darkness, her spirit slowly diminishes. She welcomes the coming of the end.
But wait…a small speck of light has shone through the darkness! And in its small shimmer, a glimmer of hope rides. Even in her weakness, she feels hope quake her soul. Darkness is no longer her constant companion. A new friend has arrived.
Every day her glimmer shines brighter; her hope rises higher. She goes from a prone state of mind to a sitting disposition in quiet contemplation. Her mind unclutters. She remembers the fall and how long she has been at the bottom of the well. But most importantly, she remembers how to climb.
As she rises to her feet, she looks up to see a pathway. A pathway to freedom lit by that speck of light. With an ounce of fortitude and a hand full of hope, she starts her ascent.
A foot here.
A hand there.
A pull.
A stretch.
She continues upward. She is halfway there. She doesn’t look back. She keeps her eyes on the prize that waits for her on the other side of darkness.
Occasionally, she feels a tug from below. Her frenemy calling out to her in woe. But she presses onward towards the light. When she reaches the rim of the well, she lifts herself out and basks in the radiance of the light. At that very moment, she remembered her forgotten smile.
Then she hears an almost indistinct sound coming from the depths. Darkness is calling. “Hey friend, don’t forget about me!” She throws her head back in joyous laughter. And without hesitation, she puts one foot in front of the other and whistles as she walks away.
And hope rises!
Simona A. Brinson
Inspired by my fellow blogger Bogdan Dragos and his wonderful short stories.
Photo by Clement Eastwood from Pexels
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