Friday, 1 June 2018

Flash fiction (21): Midst

This one was written for Dan Mader's 2minutesgo writing exercise – kicking my writing butt! Head over to his website to read or write. It's up to you :) Happy Friday!


We have this and we have the middle, the beginning, but never the end. The finality of it all hovers in the distance, a bridge of empty air, conjured up by magic, wondered at, imagined; so clearly defined we may feel we can step upon it, touch it, grip the safety rail if we wish, but we’d be wrong. It fades into the ether, sinking, becoming one with it, spreading into the very air, devoid of atoms, full silent. In this middle we have our understanding, our being, our rest, our all; the sounds, scents, feelings of each and every echo of each and every second, and we long for them. How we will miss them when they are vapour. Yet even then we will still find ourselves wandering in circles in the middle, enveloped by meaningless time, spilling and never spilled, emptying but never emptied. And when we finally draw towards the edge, there will be the very centre of it all, inviting us, the ghosts of our passing, our sacred seconds spent.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, June 1, 2018