There never really is a beginning, middle and end... in anything.
It's this continual wave, grabbing and pulling at us as we move. And either we drown, or we survive... then there's that horrible middle ground...
A small group of Zebra trotted a few metres away, toward the incline of the hill. The walking trail seeming to take me of its own accord, so I could watch the herd come past, barely aware of my existence. Or at least they acted like it.
The rains seemed to have washed life in its entirety, the grass so green it was almost neon ...the black and white stripes of life in vast contrast in the foreground.
My feet stopped, as if on their own and my lungs filled... the closer I got to the highest peak in the province, the further from life I wanted to be.
And yet out here, I was closer than ever before to it.
Or at least, to the simplicity of existence.
The acasia trees around the makeshift picnic stop...just off the walking trail, shaded in dots over the log tables and sitting spots.
I took my phone out... 3 messages in barely half an hour
"So there's this guy that just started at my work-" *delete
"What are we doing tonight? Drinks?" *delete
"I miss you, babe."
My heart felt like it was being crushed and butterflies hummed in my stomach.
I couldn't even feel the phone in my hand as I looked around where I sat, sipping the water bottle.
Wish you were here, Bear.
From my blog: athouse9.blogspot.com
Image: own
