ON CLOUD SEVEN

01: forest fire

LIFE WAS ESCAPING ME.

It sailed like an opulent yacht with the one love of my life on board, while I stood on the shore, my back turned to the sea, unaware that I was losing something irreplaceable, wreathed in oblivion. Whether the wind raged, rendering the waves dark, hazardous and threatening, or a gentle breeze stirred, I remained unaware. The cries of seagulls might be somewhere steady and soft in the distance, but again, life was escaping me and I seemed detached from anything existing outside my bedroom's four walls.

I had always liked being good at things. I had marveled at being the Icarus who remained unscathed by the sun's touch, the flower that never wilted. Chasing life had been the one thing I knew how to do, and do well. Chasing success and money and love had been my joy and pride, my forte. Until it ceased. Now, the sun rose and set, seasons changed, years passed, and here I was, never quite understanding when the moon replaced the sun, when the snow melted and wildflowers emerged from the icy ground. Had it not been for the relentless forest fire raging beyond the hill, maybe I wouldn't have realized that summer was here at all.

It wasn't solely the fires that had pulled me out of my fever dream - though the tragedy was undeniable. Clouds of smoke had also engulfed the land, making it impossible for me to open up the windows without inhaling dust and death and destruction. It reminded me of my time in London and those long evenings in the uber when I was returning home from work and I couldn't draw in a breath because of the overcrowding. That was a long time ago . . .

I stood by my bedroom window and surveyed the world outside. Where yesterday only smoke and gray prevailed, today there were also splashes of green - the result of some forest trees making it out alive. It struck me then once again, how we, engrossed in our human endeavors, tended to forget life's magnitude. We had succumbed to the fallacy that technology and science held all the answers, yet here we were, our town imperiled by a blaze beyond our control. If the 21st century was the pinnacle of humanity, why did such challenges still persist? Had we not solved all of our problems yet? Couldn't the human intellect triumph over all as we once hoped and thought?

Anyway.

Amidst the chaos, there was also fiery talk going on around the town. Words about the world coming to an end-tragedy after tragedy, misery after misery. People chatted about a sense of foreboding regarding not just the land's fate, but the very future of humanity. Could that be true? Could they be feeling some kind of bad omen regarding the collective? For years, I had gazed out my window, yet never had I felt such portent. Or any other thing for that matter.

No, that was not entirely true.

There was a time when I'd been in sync with existence, a time when I felt and appreciated many things-the simple delight of walking at midnight, yellow lights flickering in the distance; the shimmering anticipation that entered my body before a night out; the comfort of spending four days in a row by myself. Moments that had once stitched my heart in place became the memories that wrang it all over again. So I had buried them deep within, somewhere I could no longer reach. That way I would not be reminded of what I had lost. I would not be reminded of Apollo. Still I couldn't help but wonder, what happened to the days I would never get back? Did they rot in nostalgia? Was that all they were worth? An occasional remembrance?

My twenties had arrived with the knowledge of many great things, but as they stayed and accustomed themselves to my life, as they grew into maturity, they provided me more with a sense of emptiness than peace. It was an eerie feeling, partly because it wasn't a feeling at all. Just a state of total disconnection from the world. From myself. From everything. In that haze of contemplation, I nearly forgot where I was, who I was, what I was fighting for.

"I'm in Saint Marine, my name is Nicole, and I'm fighting for nothing," I whispered to myself, rising from my bed.

It was a warm night, the sky bright with the light of the full moon. A few years back, I would have known exactly what ritual I should follow to harness its energy, to let go of what no longer served me and make room for something new. Searching for divine guidance in unholy places. I chuckled at the memory of all the shit I had once been into.