interlude

“I could fill myself up until I could breathe no more, right to the sharpened edges of my soul until it reached into the netherworlds of the Universe.” she said.
Making her way further into the mouth of the trail the smells got deeper, richer and more emphatic in their messages. She knew the saviours she needed weren’t found in chapels, churches, synagogues or temples. Not with the company of other humans. Her true saviour was the air that blanketed itself onto her. It wicked away salty sweat from upper lip and brow, the nape of neck. It was even known to cool down tempers lit with angry cries and soothed tears with the gentleness of a mother’s touch.
This was her ritual, cathartic in nature and freeing in spirit. It was delving into the most sacred parts of her soul that freed her. Her soul knew what was needed to heal. It lead her down darkened paths, with harmless yet terrifying eyes watching her, tree creatures scurrying above her head and wet invertebrates digging their way further into soft grounds. It caused her to incessantly put one foot in front of the other and continue to walk to the darkest areas of the forested trails.
There were stories of evil within the treed areas yet she had yet to encounter anything that would truly make her die in her skin. It was a feeling of terror that kept her cells alive. The notion of not exactly knowing if that really was a tree ahead of her or the silhouette of a dangerous spirit caused her to choke on the fear built up in her throat. It was that anxiety nestled in between bouts of laboured breathing and stifled cries that kept her in the woods …
It was well past dusk and above, the crescent slice of light bled into black navy curtains creating a hazy veil around itself. She wished to reach up to uncover the veil, allowing more light onto Earth but she also knew this was ill mannered so she didn’t.
Besides, the darkness that enveloped the trails was beckoning her to walk them. She knew she needed to be between the branches and on their mossy banked hideaways. Breathing in the sweet air created for life she enjoyed their differing morning and evening personalities.
Could a smell bring one such comfort and solace to such vicissitudes of pain?

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