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A Darkened Shape of Something in the Light

MEMOIR PROJECT ROUGH DRAFT

I let it go. Watched the book slip from my hands; the release all of my own accord.

From the 102nd story of my book, I stood atop the great skyscraper of imagination and looked down into the civilization created around me and my dreams. My firstborn child fell from my parted hands and as it fell, the world below changed countenance before my eyes: night instantaneously covered the land, the cold steel and concrete swallowed up under the desert sky, and I now stood atop a craggy mountain peak shaped like a skyscraper and the book I had wanted to write since I proclaimed myself a writer slipped away into the inky lake of the desert floor at night.

The desert at night is roamed by spirit walkers and in the flat regions of the desert where black chilling lakes appear, the spirits row upon the lakes with their catch: men who dared to brave the desert, now abducted and taken out to become exposed to their greatest fears. Into this cold liquid abyss, the book sank. It looked as luminous as a 3-day-dead body gurgling its way into the sea with the moon radiating off the pale skin one last parting glance to the world of the living. I had to do this. There was no choice. The book was cursed. It was trying to pull me down with it and I had been there already and suffered in that place below the lake and managed my escape and I’d be damned if I was going to relive every square inch of the ordeal just for the sake of writing. And as I was thinking this, I heard a sound from behind me. And then, I was pushed…

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© 2006 Christian Cloud Abraham

Posted on November 15, 2006 in
Emotion: Fear, Type: Creative Nonfiction