|
Photograph courtesy of Dawn Miller
|
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers and to Dawn for her inspiring photo
I CAN SEE CLEARLY NOW
My whole being becomes a cruel band of steel around my head, skewing my vision. I narrow my eyes to see better, I’ve got to land this old crate of a glider, but can barely see the ground. We start a heart sinking descent.
These last months have been a downward fall, I see phantom faces, hear voices that that pursue me wherever I go.
The gliders thuds to a standstill on the ground. In this moment there is only the silence, the trees and the clear blue sky. At last my head becomes clear. I know what to do.