Silverfish

The Ascendance

She hopes she does not change in the night–with crying eyes flowing like a flooded pond across pavement.

Her thoughts seep into various bends and faults within the artificial earth. Everything around her seems to fall apart upon that very crucial sagacity, and eventually, she falls with it.

Relevance and understanding take on the smell of wet pine in the woods. Suddenly all you can recognize is that potent sent, and everything else begins to feel odd and abject.

This abjection is painful at first but eventually settles into a very comfortable acceptance. It feels even, like that calm glass spreading about the evening water. It is very quiet here, giving plenty of attention to her most consuming adventures.

Along the way she finds more of herself within the elements, which she finds great confidence in.

Old traditions of this story have been playing along the entire trip, and it is time to get something new out of it.

So without hesitation she begins to climb up a tall pine adjacent from the pond. It's trunk is sticky and damp and rubs her hands raw from the ascendance, but she persists on.

At the top she doesn't find what she perhaps was expecting but instead discovers the seemingly perpetual state this forest appears to be in. This is another comfort to her, and rather than falling back down to the earth she stays there for a while, willing and unreserved.