Here is my offering for Alastair’s Photo Fiction this week, inspired by the photo below. Why not take part? And why not visit his photography and writing blog to take a look at his other photos…?
– What Lies Beneath –
The four seasons are a distant memory – those days are long gone. Now we have The Dry and The Wet. I miss the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot, the mists hanging in the valleys at sunrise.
The onslaught of rain is tough at first. One day, the sun is high and fierce enough to leave us all parched at each ragged breath, the next the air is heavy, clouds low and pregnant with water. After a few weeks, the downpour ceases for a while, puddles lie still. It is this time that will find me, toes touching the very edge of one of these glistening pools, watching, waiting, staring.
“Alison? Alison! I’m here.”
The voice is faint, as if my imagination is playing cruel tricks. But this is real, agonisingly so.
The Washed Away, they call them. Most believe that they were drowned in the Flood Times, when the heavens opened for four long years. But I know the truth. Yes, they were washed away, but not drowned. Just taken down; down to The Below.
“Mother! It’s so good to see you!”
We smile, making do. It’s all we have.