I step forward. The lights shine brightly on my face. I am one step away from darkness; the lights hanging above my head are focused too tight. I could reach up and turn the shutters, push the dial, raise the levels. But I am on stage, stepping forward.
There are things I am learning to accept. Not having enough money. Not being able to avoid the mountainous explosions across my face. Being able to accept the blame for unrelated actions. These are the stories of most anyone’s life. But not everyone steps forward.
The Cliff is approaching. A few more steps forward and the fate is sealed. Or not. The water below catches the belly, catches the life. Or not. The fall is too great. Nothing is ever sealed. Try to take a step forward.
I step forward, one foot already out the door. If I stop here, the door slams shut. No More opportunities and a broken foot. Crutches limit more than just movement. I can no longer step forward.
There is a boy, there is a girl. They share a heart, but not a will. They step forward, but their forwards are opposing. Heart strings rip, but not painfully. They turn and look in surprise, but both smile and take another step forward.
The first of entries, on a public blog. Bordering on creative writing. This is almost ready? Prose. Like the already crawling? Baby Beloved of Toni Morrison. Except I won’t haunt your thoughts, just the either and the series of I’s and O’s that program this world.
So what’s your answer, are you going to step forward?
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