Sometimes, we’re not given a chance to come to terms with the imminence of our death. Something unexpected happens, and before we know it, it’s all over.
I’d parked the car at the sea shore. The waves were getting wilder, and my son pointed out a particularly high one on the horizon. In a panic, I’d started the engine without realising I’d left it in gear, and it shot forward, just enough to tip us down over the edge.
The drop-off is notoriously deep here, and the car is a dead weight. The windows are open, and the water rushes in. ‘This is it.’ I think, and I’m almost hypnotised by the blur of colours: blue aquamarine into the red of fading consciousness.
I’m thinking about the kids, how to get them out, but we’re too deep by then. Time to bale out and wake up, in the same room where my kids are sleeping soundly.
I imagine that all they’d managed to retrieve was a rusty key which had been in my pocket. I hadn’t once thought of leaving them to get myself out.
Love is that lone key
rusting down to iron-red
colour of heart blood.
Another failed competition entry!
I submitted this to the first Visual Verse competition, because it sounded like a fun challenge: two hours to write, edit and submit a piece written in response to the featured image for October. This one didn’t make the cut, and when I read it back, I admit the weaving in of the image could seem a bit convoluted. I’ve included the image below.
The story is based on a rather terrifying dream I’d had the previous night. Sometimes it’s good to wake up!
Sharing with earthweal’s Open Link Weekend.