Lost. Reeling. I've been shoved so hard it's hard to breathe. And breathing has never come easily for me.
When I was born an umbilical cord robbed me of air and very nearly my life. The woman who birthed me did the same exactly eight years later for the last time – but not the first. I learned to hold my breath and to hold it close to myself because it's precious and belongs to no one else, but it may have lost its value in the process. The issue pertains more to the flow than possession, but I'm not quite quick enough to keep up with the movement of the universe. Yet nor am I strong enough or big enough or airtight enough to prevent it from escaping me. But why is it trying to escape?
Yes, this is getting ridiculous. I'm stuck here. Just trying to breathe in the midst of life and all that's good and especially bad. But I'm stuck here regardless of what I want so I just need to breathe. Simple.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
In,
Out,
Flow.
Just a breath.
Thanks for reading and have a fabulous day!
~ Campion
YOU ARE READING
Flow
Short StoryA super short story about many things if you're looking for them - I'd love to get feedback on what you get out of it. On a basic level it's about the effort of carrying on in a world that tends towards chaos.
