Flowering Ink

I sat at the edge of something, contemplating anything.  Like so many times before, I try to look up, but could only stare down into the cascading darkness beneath my dangling feet.  As I lost myself in the contemplations of the day, a figure appeared beside me. In one hand it held a flower, and in the other, a bottle of ink.

“There are many things which do not make sense to me,” the figure spoke, looking at the objects in his hands.

A woman came into sight from the west and grudgingly made her way to the figure.

“These belong to you.” The figure held up the flower, then bottle and tossed them into the darkness.

“I’m not going down there,” the woman insisted.

“You have to.  It’s not a choice.”

“I’m afraid.”

“I know you are.” The figure kissed the woman on the forehead and pushed her over the edge.  As she disappeared into the void, the figure let out a sigh and turned to me, “You don’t understand, do you?”

“No, I don’t.  Why would you do that to her?”

“Yes . . . Why?  Now that is a good question.  I like good questions.  Perhaps there are just as many answers down there as up here.”

“And what about the flower and ink?”

“I imagine she will know what to do with them.”

“Is there anything I can do for her?”

“You can watch her fall and then look for the light which will guide her way.”

“But there’s no light down there.”

“Hmm, you’re right,” the figure peered into the abyss, “I guess she’ll have to make some of her own.”

The figure turned and bid me farewell.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“You don’t really think I’d toss someone into a place like that, and then just walk away, do you? I’m going to watch over her.  It’s kind of my thing.” The figure took a single step backward and disappeared over the edge.

And with time, a light did grow in the darkness.  Though some days it shines brighter than others, it is always present, a beacon of hope, leading the way through shadows of uncertainty, formed from words which flow through the iridescent glow of flowering ink.

This piece was inspired by/written for Susan over at Stories From the Edge of Blindness aka Flowering Ink.  If you are not already a follower of hers, I highly recommend stopping by and checking out her work.  You will not be disappointed.