The Storm

Here I am, lost in the middle of the ocean. I look, in all directions, and all I see is this endless world of water. I’m on a raft, one that’s just for me alone, and the waves are bashing against my ankles. I tuck my legs up further under my chin and wrap my arms around them.

Above my head, the grey clouds are twisting further and further into a crooked grin. A storm is coming, the biggest one, and it’s got its eyes on me. Oh love, I’m going to have to fight back, aren’t I? I’m going to have to face this one alone.

I close my eyes, and imagine a time when I was lying in a field of daisies as the sun blazed above my head. I imagine the sound of birds and the orange glare of the sunlight under my eyelids. I remember the sound of familiar footsteps walk towards me. I imagine a time where I thought: “wow, look at the world. Look at where I am.”

A gust of wind takes the raft. I cling on, but only just. The waves have turned from blue to black, and have grown taller. They turn towards me, these monstrous water warriors, and here I am, on a tiny raft, with my arms hugging my legs. This isn’t the eye of the storm though; it’s only just begun. It’s picking up, furiously so, and I need to ready myself.

My chest gets tighter. This is it now. This is where I am.

This is a little snippet of something I’m working on. Hope you enjoy! It’s inspired by the beautiful quote from Haruki Murakami: “And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.

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