Shadow(Annie Frame) Shadow.

Rose stared at the shadow, studying it as she had done so many times before. It used to dance along with her with restless, energetic joy, duck and dive the hardships of life without glancing back. A strong reflective energy fueled with hopes and dreams. Her eyes filled with salted tears so she dutifully blinked them back. Tears solved nothing much at all. She’d cried enough, danced with miseries sorry tale for years on end. As much a part of her as any physical attribute, maybe so much more. It remained as always, stooped in pain absorbing chronic fatigue. Rose knew all too well that there were many like hers, some alike and some very different. She also knew that they all carried the same web of illusion, the pulsating vein of the owner. A deep throbbing vein void of blood yet full of reality, the connection lasting a lifetime and beyond.

She stared impassively trying to invade depths way beyond perception. Finally earthen weight dragged her back to the moment. The day was bright, but not for her, it was the same as every other with daydreams scattered carelessly littering underfoot, demanding attention that she could not give. Her eyes wandered to the beam of sunshine coming through the window. Normally she deliberately kept heavy curtains tightly drawn, but not today. She wandered over to the window and peered out into the street. He was crippled and dragged both legs with him while lent heavily on sticks. For seconds she studied the internal fight spilling out on the battlefield until her eyes wandered to the familiar on the wall. It was not the same as hers, but held a similar note under observation. Crudely hunched, overcast with evaporating residue it hung to him like glue.

He lifted his head and met her gaze. Bright, contented eyes dancing with internal substance invaded her miserable existence. Slowly her lips curled at each corner as the smile crept onto her face. Cheeks creaked at the momentous occasion as old views left, leaving way for new ones. He left her world as he’d entered it, it only took a moment and all she could do was watch as he dragged heavy limbs further with shadow in hot pursuit. Turning away her attention flew back to the image on the wall, her image. It reeked of fibromyalgia, but only because it was all she reflected of herself. She could fight it. If he could battle a heavy weight, so could she. She forced her spine to straighten. It pained her to do so, but was worth it. She stared at truth for the umpteenth time and it told her so.

By Annie Frame Copyright November 2013.

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