I want to stare at the pool of reflection. The pool that tells it all- the black sheep I want to go away the most.
Yet, I cannot.
I fear of what I'll see is not what I want. I could be the issue, the shepherd, instead of its sheep, could be the problem. Or, maybe I've always lied to myself and others about my herd. Which is correct?
I want to look, yet, I cannot.
I stray away from a distance, looking beyond. As I come back here, again and again, the water shrinks in size. It always has.
The waterfall could be there. Or, maybe it is surrounded by mist and fog, and I'll see the fall only in a flash.
A fast current can be there, and hastily drift me away to the black sheep again.
Calming pools and shallow waters are possible. But I cannot take the risk of going back.
Move away. Move away. Let it all flow and just allow it to take you along. Make the dive before you are forced to dive.
The water shrinks. But it still floods. And floods are scarier than waterfalls or rushing currents. So why can I not move forward?
"She sees it... all in a grey area. Nothing is black nor white."
No. There is only shades of black here. White might as well be a lie. I can't think this way. Can I not see the positive? Think, think, think!
Splash.
I have to chose my step before I get caught in another flood again.
YOU ARE READING
Counting Sheep
Teen FictionOne sheep, two sheep, This is not helping at all. Three sheep, four- Someone kill me, I must snoop this low. Five sheep, six sheep, I feel tired, but the waters still flow. Seven sheep, eight she- It looks like the sheep hit a wall. I guess eight sh...
