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A splash in the ash of time
prose [ ]

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by [isamia ]

2012-01-15  |     | 

I am staying in my “cool pool” top up with hot tap water. The depth is running on me in a mother-of-pearl glittering ode. I am waving my dreams up and down, because I need a leap from my “let me stay in the shadow of yesterday! I am trying eagerly to make a break throughout tomorrow!” I squeeze a rainbow straw trapped between my fingers and draw my drink on the salt of time. However there is no ship on the horizon!
I am dangling my feet in the hot liquid that lay beneath me. I am hoping that my circle will not engage the waves in a chaotic rebellion against the helpless grains of colorful salt that surrounded the realm of my fancy dreams.
Help! My soul is about to be drown, and I have no clue how to surf on the surface of my imaginary world!
Finally the afternoon is knocking delicate on my face sending the last vivid salute of the day. “Here you go! Have same fun with the sun!” The silence it’s creeping on me from every corner. If I don’t want to get expelled by the almighty Shadow, I better pretend that I am not here. I am laying there between the lines of my thoughts keeping my attention focused on the tiny web of my sorrows. “Been here, done that and return into the nowhere for another round!” Suddenly, another shadow tries to get my attention. She sneaks in my watery world without invitation. I am too inert to focus my attention on this mysterious appearance. In a second I feel a silk skin brushing my cheeks; its keeps moving into my comfort zone. Ups! The silk embroidery of my agile shadow it is actually a velvet soft fur with a cute smile that lays flat on the corner of her jade eyes.
“Hello Wakkie, I forgot that you have whiskers “mushy” as the Gibraltar rock. Why are you sliding into my tub? Why reminding me about the insensitive winter that lay outside my icy balcony! Please, tell me, what do we have in the menu today?
“Snow”! The clouds are running like a disoriented bunch of sheep. Oh! Depression came and embraces me with your cold wings. Oh! Brother! Here goes my tropical flap, and I must go back into my winter slop!

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