Fiction Friday: Treadmill

Bare feet pound against dry, cracked earth.
Each step leading to nowhere.
The horizon never changing.

Heartbeats pound against tight, stitched ribs.
Each pulse leading to the last.
The horizon too far to care.

Despair pounds against ever-waning hope.
Each second leading to the end.
The horizon stares on, aloof and distant.

Faith pounds against the impatient horizon.
Each thump a call to believe.
The horizon swells. The horizon cheers.

Fiction Friday: [A Life Extraordinary]

A calm breeze shakes the long blades of grass to life. They tickle my cheek as I stare up at the marshmallowy cloud looming overhead. Impossibly out of reach, I wonder what my life must look like from up there. 

Boring, I decide. Extremely boring.

Looking over at Will—his arms clasped behind his head and eyes closed—I know he never thinks such things. He’s content to just lie here, basking under the sun, on this unseasonably hot spring day. Right now, he’s happy here. Doing this. Nothing more, nothing less.

Sometimes I envy him.

Closing my eyes I become weightless. Air quickly fills the space between my body and the lush field of green as I ascend. A coolness washes over me as I enter the wispy folds of the cloud. Tiny beads of icy moisture cling to my skin, but as I break through to the other side, heated rays from the sun evaporate each one.

Perched atop the cloud, I feel free. So free that I’m hesitant to peek over the side. To witness a life less fantastical than this very moment.  But, curiosity wins out and I do.

Expecting to see a woman muddling her way through a humdrum life, destined to have a humdrum future, I am taken aback by what plays out before me. Every event of my life, leading to this moment, is projected in flashes. Suddenly, I am glowing. Radiating from the choices I’ve made and the work I’ve put in to get me here.

I see my future—the extraordinary things to come—and feel foolish for ever doubting my life was less than amazing. From here I can see how capable I am. How big my heart is. How incredibly lucky I am to be me.

I see my family, my friends—my Will.

Despite the distance, we’re clear as day. Two people in a field of many who all just seem to fade away. I am overwhelmed by how gently and trustingly he places his heart in my hand. 

Opening my eyes, I am back on the ground. Back to my life.  I reach over to Will, weaving my fingers through his. Right now, I am happy here. Doing this. Nothing more, nothing less.