For months I’ve been walking through desert land and with every single step of the way there’s more pain. I keep telling myself it’s natural for my feet to be sore, but at this point they should be used to it. The further I walk, the more I grab at every gasp of breath. I reach another desert hill and I climb ignoring the pain and thinking only about the goal. Lying just over this hill is an ancient land with luscious green grass and tall trees overlooking you like giants. The air is cooler here and I hear a river nearby. I’m walking towards it and there are several stone statues lining the small path of sand. Carved on the statues are what look like ancient hieroglyphics, ones that I’m not familiar with.
Finally, I reach the small stream and kneel down on the grass. Its soft padding is a rare find from the hot gritty texture of sand my knees are used to feeling. I cup my hands and drink down several cups of water, making sure to savor every last drop but continuing at a reasonable pace. I splash my face a few times before the rest of my body collapses onto the lush field. I’m tempted to stay, even if its just to rest for a little while under the cool shades of the trees but I can’t. I get up and wander through the rest of the ancient land before making my way out. It’s already night, and the wind is picking up. There will be a sandstorm soon, I should’ve stayed in the forest.
—
I wake up to a hazy dawn reaching for nothing. I’ve been searching for you through the days, and reaching for you through the nights. I’m tired and I’m weak, but I’m strong for you. How many more nights and days will pass before I find you? I want to go home, but I’ve come too far. My love gets me through.
I pour myself a cup of coffee, and use the mug to warm my hands. I hold it close to me and take a deep breath. The fragrance calms me and I take a sip. Soothing, but bitter, just the way I like it. It’s winter but I open all my windows anyway as a piercing cold wind blows in. I shiver and readjust my robe, tying it a bit too tight, leaving me gasping for air. I loosen the knot a little, and the wind has carried in a familiar scent. Snow.
Come to think of it, that means this will be the first snowfall of the year. I look around thinking perhaps I should throw something atop my furniture. The snow will only accentuate my already black and white apartment, leaving it colder than I had originally intended for it. The phone rings and it’s my professor.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to make a house call. I just wanted to remind you that there are only two weeks left before your senior thesis is due. I will need it on my desk by 9 PM. Try not to be late?”
Just as I let go of the receiver, the phone rings again.
“Hello? You there?”
I lightly knock once on the living room window.
“I can’t believe you’ve kept this up for so long. It’s been what? Three years now?”
I wait patiently for her to collect her thoughts and make her point. She doesn’t and instead changes the subject.
“Is it snowing by you yet? There’s supposed to be a big snowstorm heading your way. Even if it’s not that bad, don’t push yourself. Just call in sick.”
I’m gazing out the window now, switching glances here and there, weaving between buildings and streets. I’ve stopped listening altogether.
“You know, your father’s worried about you.” There’s a pause, a slight hesitation. I know what she’s about to ask.
“Have you seen the doctor recently?”
Silence.
“You know, usually silence would give me my answer, but not in your case right? So have you seen the doctor recently?”
This time, I hesitate. After another few seconds or so I knock on the window twice.
“How long has it been since your last visit?”
Three knocks.
“Three days ago?”
Two knocks.
“Weeks?”
Two more knocks and she gets the message.
“That is unacceptable. Weeks wouldn’t have been your worst, but months? What are you thinking? We’re paying good money for your doctor. The least you can do is go!”
Her last sentence would’ve knocked anyone off their seat, but I was already standing. Tones like that don’t faze me anymore.
I can hear her breathing slowing down as she takes deep breaths to calm herself.
“Christmas is coming up. Your father would really like to see you.”
Silence.
She hangs up.
I look out the window and lean my head against the cold glass. I hear his voice.
“To the girl whose mind conceives a more beautiful world than mine…with as much care and love I can muster…”
Something icy hits me, melts, and slides down my cheek. I slowly open my eyes, and it’s snowing.
© estalement 2007
