BEAUTIFUL

It was the only time I really felt beautiful.

The silver flowers spoke to me as I sat among them, illuminated by  the large, low moon.  I remember the whispers of the wooden boy who lives in the tree.  I remember what he told me that day.  I followed his instructions.

I dragged my body down to the river bank, taking off the blanket but leaving on my nightdress.  I rolled until the splash of freezing water enveloped my nightdress and pulled down on my hair.

As I floated, the bracken water swelled warm.  With just my face above the water, I accepted the blessings.  Mouth after mouth touched my lips, giving the sweetest kisses, taking breath from their little lungs and filling me with life.

My eyes opened as translucent wings fluttered above my head, little hands stroking my hair.  The hands moved underneath me, and I was transported from water to river bank to my home.  Even the chair with its large, awkward wheels, was cleaned and left by the bed.

I don’t know if I will ever see them again, the ones who make me feel so special, but I will remember them every time I see the river, or the moon, or  my reflection.

 

This piece was inspired by a picture of a woman submerged except for her face. 

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About catherinehume

Catherine Hume: Writer, social care worker and a liver of a life less ordinary.
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