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splinterswerve
Calgary, Alberta, Canada
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by Christopher Lawrence

 

Eradication of my brain onto paper.
Challenging, constantly challenging.

I hear fragments of voices around me.
Remnants of memories looping.

“Do this.”
“This is how you do it.”

Stone-cold fingers gripping my sword.

“Now that’s the way to do it!”
“You were meant for this.”

Shallow breaths, swallowing hard.
Wide eyes, waiting.

“You are capable of more than you think you are.”
“I always knew you were meant for great things.”

I am ready.

“This is the type of stuff you are going to be doing, do you understand?”

The wind blows.
No time.

Clang.
The swordplay begins.

Who will win?
I jump onto a large boulder to dodge.

My foe strikes, his sword stings.
I stagger and stumble.

The ground is hard and familiar.
Blood.

His enjoyment, a slow walk.
I breathe, a moment to recover.

His many faces come back to my mind.
I drown in his words.

The voice of motive, the voice of attack, the voice of infidelity.
He is every voice, but my own.

Fury drives me to a counter-attack.
A running start.

I miss.
Another go.

Another miss.
Panic.

Deeper and deeper I can feel the pangs of loss.
Dizzy. Spinning.

The wind blows.

I fall. “You look tired,” says he.
I feel tired.

Again he, “Are you ready?”
I nod.

He raises his sword above my head.
I breathe acceptance.
Close my eyes and wait.

The wind blows. “Do you feel me?” It asks.
Yes.

“And can you see me?” It taunts.
In my mind.  I reply.

“Can you taste my sweet song?”
If I try I can.

“Then you must be able to hear me.”
Of course.

“But are you ready to listen?”
In a moment it will not matter.

“To you it never would, you have never really listened.”
Hah!  What could the wind offer me?

“I can tell you all of the sympathies of your soul.”
“I can tell you the deepest secrets to your goal.”
“But you yearn and seek the battle from within.”
“And you lose repeatedly to your own chagrin.”
“Try try try as you might.”
“It always turns to fight or flight.”
“Stop and listen for once you fool.”
“I promise it will end your duel.”

Can you really do all that?
“Yes.”

Where have you been?
“Right beside you.”

“Are you ready to accept your fate?”
In my silent acceptance I open my eyes.

I see nothing.
It is only me in this place.

“Surprised?” asks the wind.
Yes, I reply. I am alone.

“I am with you now.”
“You cannot fight the wind.”

Where is he?
I used to hear his voice.

“Gone forever.”
“It was your only choice.”

“Now rise from the ground and finish your story.”

“I’m here forever my friend, through all the glory.”