Waiting around to die

Sometimes, suffering alone is all that is possible...

A sudden wind that had nothing to do with anything, seemingly, whirled the dried leaves from the bushes along the floor into an uproar of swirling. Ten dozen raindrops spattered the plastic roof promising more to come, and soon.

With nothing better to do a black dog sauntered in through the open gates and strolled around the courtyard and then out it went back into the short fried grass of the field where another scruffy dog was half asleep in the midday heat.

Again the wind blew up and shook the trees and began talking in a voice that the woman found hard to understand but listened to it anyway just in case.

Over the wall from next door’s yard came the sound of chopping, perhaps from the hired help dicing onions but after many long minutes the sound grew bored with the feeling of a long despair grown used to and no longer noticed.

the woman knew this and recognised its unendingness that could crush the soul into a helpless form of slavery that maybe even time couldn’t dispel.

As the huge tropical leaves moved in the strengthening wind and the clouds thickened overhead, shells strung on string tinkled a fine tune that became an urgent insistency and far off a bell sounded a warning perhaps of something to come that should be heeded, yet the woman moved not and continued staring at her empty cup as if without the will to move and ask for a refill and seemed to have given up the ghost of the holy grail of living even though life continued giving her the chance to start anew, or at least to forget and move on.

When a small fish jumped out of the pond mouthing a passing fly to fall back with a splash the woman stirred from her feeling of eons long suffering and stared around her in the garden of the restaurant she came to eat in every day.

A heavy downpour of rain came then and attacked the plastic roof she was sitting under with a sound that drowned out any coherent thought and the squalling wind turned into a gale that tugged at her clothes and threatened to blow her over onto the hard ground.

She had the feeling to let go and to just be blown away forever into the swirling dust of her life and to never come back.

But it was not to be; suffering must be endured until all hope has gone and all that’s left is the redemption of being no more and the soul can finally re-join the all-one that it came from, and there to find peace at last, or be sent back for another round in the stuff of life to learn that forever is not long enough to escape suffering and that love is the only way to turn.

Suspecting she was a fool not to grasp this straw of knowing she paid her bill and stumbled from the restaurant back to her room to sleep and forget until the next time hunger forced her to go and eat and endure the waking pain of being alive.

Image from Pixabay