My Mama Walked With The Unborn Me

Chapter 8: Speak Ye Horizon

Though alert, her senses were relaxed to some extent because she did not have to make sure her steps were ambling in the right direction. Now the road was all she has to follow.

The twilight had already inked the sky deep indigo with a slight golden tinge melded in the dawning blue, just enough for her keen eyes to decipher.

Even though it was a mere flicker, but she could have sworn that she saw a flicker of humidity bordering the horizon, over the rocky ridges which blocked her vision of the seashore.

It was the flicker she had been longing for all those black hours of the night she had trod. For this line of vapour in the air, glinting with the dawn ever so slightly.

And within a heartbeat, this ‘longing’ turned into ‘craving’. Much more intense than all that desperation she had in the entire journey.

Her walking steps transformed into large, hasty strides, brutally brushing the dust off the road, faster than her conscience would allow, until a strain in her thighs halted them.

Consumed by the ‘craving’ to catch the gleaming surface of water and sea foam, as if it will flee farther if not seized, she had let her impatience thrive and allowed it to push herself over the edge.

She slumped her body down, slowly, letting the pain subside as shame rose to her cheeks, colouring them red, shaded darker by embarrassment.

She was guilty for in the wake of her greedy verve, she had let her conscience slip away, and with it, let slip away the living fact that she was a mother. She forgot that her body still had limits of exertion.

She was ashamed that despite all her proficiency in pregnancy, she has managed to bring harm upon herself. She was ashamed that she forgot, even for a shameful heartbeat, that she was responsible for a life growing inside of her.

Her baby shifted within her. Anna sighed, and closing her eyes, touched the spot of feel.

“Mama’s Sorry, Baby!“

Anna apologized, addressing her baby’s chiding which only she could deem certain.

She piled her supplies behind her back to lean on it and with a face pouting like a pup seeking forgiveness from its master for shredding off the pillows, watched the indigo of the sky turn to bright turquoise, tint by tint.

When she thought it was enough resting and that seeking redemption would require more than just looking pitiful, she got ready and on her feet.

Picking up her supplies, she muttered a quick prayer of apology.

‘Sorry Father, And Thank You.’

Thank You for yet again drawing her to the right path. For it was more than just losing patience.

Oceans are not the mighty waters which they are if every drop in it does not make it.

This little impatience added with enough practice can slowly cause problems and those problems will birth bigger troubles. And Anna shuddered at the thought that if she ever lost this patience with her child and feared more if this drew her away.

Annie was all she had in this world. And for certain, she did not want to lose her.

So Anna swore, that from now on she would try her ultimate best to not lose her patience, as a person. As a Mother.