My awakening | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: My awakening | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jared Pretorius
11/03/09
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The color of the freshly painted hallway walls of the cozy cottage baked by the sun as the light bounces off of them, like little fairies dancing too and fro, leaping from stage to stage filling the air with jubilee and giggling. The late afternoon sun radiates through the glass of the grand casement, allowed in only by the massive restrained drape drawn back like a heavy shadow which threatens to steal the light away at any moment awaiting the perfect opportunity to break free from the fickle grip of its captor. The pungent odor in the atmosphere, distinct of an abode, whose walls, acting as a guide, welcoming us and leading us from room to room, was given a new uniform. One might even say these walls were given a coat of new life.
I sit contemplating this word “life” as I rest my weary frame on the vacant paint can which emptied itself in sacrifice, in aid of a greater purpose, allowing these walls to be renewed and this home to be restored to its former glory that it once knew. This task demanded much, of both the paint can, and myself. These walls were once abandoned to fate only to be found again much later in their somnolent state, the consequences clearly seen. Decades of affliction brought on by angry fists that found their destination left their mark. Inanimate objects that were given a life and purpose far perverted from their design, plates used to serve were now projectiles propelled but missing their target and finding the hard smooth surface. Remnants of the showers from the heavens like worn travelers seeking a place of refuge, creeping in silently through any crevices that could be found in the fortifications and slowly dripped down stalking the ground, left their tale. The neglect that time brought wrought its vehement. For these walls to be taken from their previous state as they were forced to become and then to stand again, in new splendor and a grandeur long forgotten by those around, and even themselves so long ago, had to come at someone’s cost.
As these notions consumed me facilitated by the odors that the walls now carried and tones in the room as the dancing of the fairies gradually ceased, and time seemed to stand still leaving me to my current obsession. The slow etching shadows against the pallid walls alone indicated that time had not forgotten me. “I was not forgotten at all”, was my new conviction, I was not forgotten, not even merely remembered. No, I was on someone’s mind at that very moment. I sensed it as soberly as I felt the warmth of the day fading away. I too came at a price, someone else had spent his life energy on me restoring me to the brilliance of glory, and my worn essence was far removed from me just as had that weathered appearance of the very walls that I exhausted my strength on. I felt the last rays of the day focused on me, and as my eyes slowly shut I could envision my untainted garment of pure and extraordinary white wrapped around my body, hugging me in a ambiance of warmth and love, or are they the same, and I carried the one who emptied himself just as did the paint can, in sacrifice for me, heavily upon my heart. I left the world in a daze, not entirely unconscious, but not truly awake as my dreams lead closer and closer to the one I love.

592 words

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