Without an instrument to define truth, we exist in an elusive place where anything goes, and that is a dangerous place to be because it’s where darkness lurks, waiting to pull us in.
I haven’t posted the last few months because I wrote a book. More on that in the future. Today, I want to focus on a short story I wrote some time ago. It’s the first short story I published as an adult. Previously, I published in high school and college, but there was a ten year period between college and this story in which I didn’t write. Holding a writer back from pen and paper is like keeping a sailor off the water. Eventually, when opportunity presents itself, they’ll break free and pour out their soul into what they love. In some cases, it wreaks havoc on the home front, but there’s no stopping it.
This story contains a piece of my soul, and I want to share it with you because with a different cast of characters, setting, and timeline, this story also belongs to you. I hope to follow up in the coming weeks to comment because behind certain aspects of the symbolism are concrete facts and pictures I’ve never put into words. I hope you enjoy and find comfort in the message. Feel free to comment if you have an opinion, and please share with others who might benefit or simply enjoy the ambiguity.
Riddled with symbolism and abstract detail, Into the Light is about a young girl born into a world of dysfunction and the inevitable pull of darkness until she becomes ensnared with no way of escape. It’s about the loss of trust and identity, but it’s also about hope and the love that pulled her out of the darkness.
You can read the story here.
A few days ago, I asked my daughter if she liked my new selfie pic on Facebook. I held the phone out so she could see. She tipped her head one way, then the other. She skewed up one corner of her mouth.
“Is it bad?” I turned the phone and stared at myself.
Two and half years had passed since I’d seen any member of my family. The anticipation of being with them again was so great I could concentrate on nothing else as the shifting sea slapped against the ship.
If you’ve been there, you understand how the initial shock of rejection tosses you into a sea of uncertainty. You flail to stay afloat, but fear and frustration pull you under. You can’t see anything except the chaotic fog in your face as you inwardly scream, “What’s going to happen to me?”
A few years ago, I moved to China with my husband and daughter, leaving behind our two college aged sons. What was supposed to be a new experience and great adventure quickly morphed into misery.