The only way she could think was to walk. She had found a long, lonely road where no one lived on the island. It was filled with the shade of the low palms and the unfamiliar sounds of the tropical birds as they swooped above her head. She couldn’t think at her home. He was there. Right beside her. Confusing her thoughts. She could only escape occasionally. On those occasions, she either went to the ocean or this lonely road.
She suddenly saw a house lying off the road, set back in a palm grove. She’d never walked this far before so she didn’t know the house. A manor house. It looked deserted. She could cool off there. The vegetation was grown up around the house. It seemed as if no one had been here in a long time. She pulled the door open. She was shocked at what she saw before her.
There was a long hallway in front of her. Then an opening and, seemingly, another hall. As she walked down the hallway, she saw an old man sitting at the end of what she could only call a portal. She kept walking and felt no fear. When she got to him, he greeted her and invited her to sit. They were both silent for a few moments. Then he spoke.
”Are you going to make a decision before you run out of time?”
”How do you know anything about me?” she replied.
“You won’t live as long as I have. You must make the right decision and quickly,” he said. “You’ve already wasted too much time.”
”What should I do?” she asked the old man..
”You only regret the things you don’t do. Are you happy?” he said.
”No, but I’m afraid.”
”Do you remember, when you were young, the thrill of jumping into a creek or riding your bike or kissing your boyfriend for the first time?” he asked.
She replied that she did remember.
”Go, my dear, and feel that rush again.”
He smiled at her. She got up from her chair when he looked as if he had fallen asleep. She thought of his words all the way back to where they lived on her beautiful island. She went inside, got out her suitcase, and said she was leaving. She said goodbye to her island, only for a time, she hoped. She packed, loaded her car, and inside a few hours, she was on the road – by herself.
She had fear because of what she had just done, but deep inside, she felt as if she were 20 years old again and knew she had done the right thing. For the first time in her life, she was doing something just for herself. She was escaping.
She felt the rush because of the man in the portal. Who had he been?
That is a mysterious tale, Rosemary… but sometimes, you just have to rise the moment…
It is a story of domestic abuse and the escape from it. Perhaps I was too cryptic.
My comment still olds in part… to escape, you have to rise and seize the moment.
Then she won.
The man was her inner voice, her strength, her resilience, it was her true self, the one who knew her the best.
I assume the island is metaphorical unless there is a bridge.
The island is real and there IS a bridge!