Fruits of Insanity

shades in blue

I’ve been following him for what seems like forever—since life ended and I died and the world shaded into blue. I don’t know why I picked him to follow, or why he lets me. We never talk. He just walks two paces in front of me through impossibilities. His pack looks heavy—maybe heavier than mine, but we never put them down. We never stop to rest or to camp or to eat. It’s not necessary anymore.

We were in mountains to begin. Steep ones that make me ache with the memory of them. There was a forest, I think. Forests are impossible to define when standing in the middle of them. They require a slope to stand back from and marvel at the vastness that they are. We strode through them for an eternity and I thought about connections and roots and hands intertwining with mine, lifting me up. I sometimes wish we were back there, despite the aching, but we walked down and onto the water.

That’s where we are now, rippling with every step as we walk the water. Sometimes, I look away from his feet to the surface that undulates with our every movement. No action without reaction, and sometimes they ripple back to us and our steps refract like gemstones in the blue light.

We’ve walked so long. In the back of my mind, as I study the ripples, I begin to wonder about reality. But I’ve walked too long and followed too closely to abandon him now, even as I fear that we have wandered into metaphor.

I really hope it isn’t metaphor. I don’t think I could cope with that, here at the end of things.

Prompt 19
the week of December 6

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