On the lake.
Day 15 of my 100-day writing project.
Inching further, staying afloat.
Moving slower, for it was just a boat.
The night was eerie and a hyena laughed in the distance, the sound echoing across the lake and travelling towards me — alone, on a boat.
The darkness was darker than dark could ever get and my fright was wedged tightly between the realms of rational choice and emotional attachment.
I couldn't move. My thoughts sounded like indistinct chatter to me, I felt the whole jungle could hear it — loud and clear, and yet, I couldn’t. It was all just a garbled mix. An indistinct chatter.
Should I, or should I not?
My feet were cold and my lips quivered. I felt the blood draining out of my face. The lake gleamed but everything was silent. I wanted to jump off the boat, swim and get to the other end. But I couldn’t.
Did I see him smile?
Not sure. After hours of agony, I felt safer on the boat, the silence was not scary anymore. The air seemed warmer, the silence was soothing. The sun began to rise and my lips curved into a smile, too.
The tranquility was mesmerising, natural silence began to flow, filling the void, forcing him to breathe. The shades of the lake seemed to be a mirror of his own eyes. What if he WAS the lake?
I could see my child swimming towards me, gurgling, giggling, comforting and confusing me.
My womb is a lake and I'm the boat. I can't wait to meet you soon.
Love you.
Liked this fiction piece? Consider supporting me in my 100-day writing project. I'm ever so grateful for all the kind words I've received in support of this project. Thank you again, for reading me. I've written for 15 beautiful days, and I hope to keep writing more, forever.
