The Change (a metaphor)  

WhatDreamsMC 62M
36 posts
2/15/2006 4:10 pm

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

The Change (a metaphor)


Frost on the pumpkin. Oh, how he was looking forward to that, when the scent of kindling, and a newly frisky black cat, would chase their tails, and anything else, in copious swirls, finally flinging themselves upon his senses in a grand announcement of a changing year. The quickly drying corn stalks were surrounding him now, as he entered the maze. He knew she was waiting there on the other side.

Oh, he hadn't seen her yet. He hadn't seen her enter the maze, but he knew she was there. He could feel her presence. It lingered on the crisp, cool air and made it soft and beckoning. It drew him toward her, deeper into the maze, each path leading him closer, closer, and then, suddenly, far away.

He knew what he would find, though he hadn't seen her. Blazoning hair like a thousand sunsets, skin of gold, and eyes that burned deep into his soul. Oh yes, he knew what he would find on the other side, if only he could reach her.

The day was late. The sky was getting dark. Each path revealed the same dead-endings and seemed to narrow with the approaching night.

He couldn't leave. He knew he had to find her. She would be cold, and he wanted to make her warm. She would be frightened, and he wanted to hold her close and tell her not to fear. But time would not stand still, and the paths converged upon him in a torrent. He was lost, and he was beginning to doubt....

WhatDreamsMC 62M

2/20/2006 9:58 am

You always understand.


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