Growth

Light

In my Honors English class we were given the assignment to write a decriptive narrative using The Turtle as a base. We had to pick an object of our choice and describe it in its beauty. As a lover of writing and descriptive passages, I looked forward to this assignment, determined to steal the show. That is until a writers block claimed my ability to decide on my topic. Thankfully the day before the paper was due inspiration grabbed me by the hand and dragged me headfirst into my story- literally! And the result was this story based off of him. 

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Golden light is laced with thick shadows, giving the earth around it an ethereal glow. Tree branches, long and thin, reach out along the gravel path attempting to grasp the scarce light. The shrill cries of birds echo in the enclosed space, their songs melding together to create beautiful discord. Squirrels dash through the dense foliage and up the trees while mosquitoes flash quickly through the strands of light.

A bridge, straight cut and narrow, crosses the border between two stretches of land, connecting the path. The soft caramel colored wood is waterlogged and split in places. Moss grows on the sides and the wood along the railing is warped, threatening to snap at any moment. However, the bridge still stands strong, the thick planks in the middle firm. Words are etched into the tops of the rails, remnants of past visitors.

Under the foot of the bridge is a thick stream of stagnant water, the color of tea. A lone turtle pushes its way through the murk and sends rings out in all directions. Lilies paint the surface of the water green while reeds force their way up through the silt at the bottom and brush the rails of the bridge. A vibrant white flower sits motionless in the dingy water, its petals glowing in comparison.

A boy sits on the bridge’s rail, his lanky body folded neatly to accommodate the short distance from the ground to the rail. His head is bowed, eyes fixed on the flower frozen in time. Shadows lick at his shirt, the rough white cotton bringing out the flush in his cheeks. His long, thin, artistic fingers grip the rail to balance him as he leans forward slightly as though tempted to fall.

He glances up, his eyes glowing in the soft light. Icy blue orbs flecked with soft green stare blankly forward, two cyan pools with mossy green lily pads adrift in the soft tide of thought. Yet, though he stares intently, he sees nothing, lost in his own mind. His lips are pressed together in a firm line and his jaw is set. He does not blink.

Desperately he shakes himself out of his stupor, focusing on something in the distance. His thin brows crease in momentary distress then straighten out again. He sits immobile, a statue, form bent forward slightly as though ready for flight. His body is here but his mind is gone once more. A bird cries out softly. The turtle is gone.

He tilts his head back slowly and focuses on the oasis surrounding him. He rolls his head to the side and focuses on the figure further down on the path, frowning in desperation. Sighing, he cries out to them. When there is no reply he stands slowly and stares at the wood under his feet. His lank body reaches high causing him to duck from branches. Staring at the flower he smirks softly before turning and rushing down the path towards the figure. He throws is arms around them and, holding them close, continues down the path.

 

The bird’s songs swell to a crescendo. Cool air carries the scent of the water and dying leaves. Shadows fall across the bridge, swallowing up the remaining light. A red cardinal takes off from a thin branch. The limb snaps and splashes into the water, right on top of the flower. The petals are quickly encased in the dark liquid and the bud sinks to the bottom, settling in the mud. Off in the distance, sweet laughter echoes eerily.