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Shifting Perspectives


Only the sound of river running beside her, water trying to creep into the crevices of rocks, the undulating waves beat the rock scaffolding, some crevices sucked in the import, while others vanquished. Vanessa lingered heavily with the weight of uncertainty, the morning fog kissed her lips, dried and wetted at the same time, obfuscated her vision, hugged her in entirety, not letting her go away. She loved it, the pleasant and chilled weather benumbed her, her breast heaved under the hugging pressure, only the troubled sensation remained, the cold must have devoured her feet. Her arms, she stretched them wide, now they were gone too, here they come again, she thought, as she locked her hands together before her, it must be the fog. She took a step forward, was it forward, for there was no ground beneath her feet. A burst! She blenched with fear, stepped back, but oh! wait, where does the ground behind her end before she would finally slip into a horrible fall. Another burst, this one was much clear and loud, she has to make a move before the gulping sound transmogrifies into the giant cicada with 200 feet, and it would swallow her in no time. She has to move forward. We don’t yet know, if the creature that the fears are attributed to is lurking beneath the veil of fog, but time will tell.

Jacob watched as the sun slowly ascended, rhythmically, punctiliously. He consulted his watch, beat on the knob before the minute hand resting at 12 waiting for the alarm hand to fly over it, smothered it with restless monotone, and irked him. Sun rose, illumining the river, as the aquatic life hidden in the sediment of river woke up, and swam to the surface, to yawn, dance, flutter, bathe and submit before the suffusing power. Underwater bushes woke up, as the sun rose even higher up with glistening accuracy, and the bushes forced their revival, pushed through the slopes of light with their reflections, transpiring magically at the surface, and the river turned green.

Curiously enough, Jacob’s endeavors to hold on to the cylindrical slope of light that pushed through the corners of drawn blinds were granted distrust. The yellow shaft was a channel through which small flake like particles rubbed against each other, remained suspended in the densely packed innards of the shaft. Jacob noticed the shaft express rejection of the external body of deterrence, an outright denial took the form of burning rage, light suffused through his exposed palm, burnt the flesh, ran through the thickness and then, nothing, red ! Red! Blood! His blood gracefully imbibed the energy flakes channeled through the shaft, an affirmation; the back of his palm was red with the activity. It felt undeniably gratifying, as the heat was picked up by his open nerve ends on the palm, transferred it to the rest of the body. He felt heroic, for he let his palm face the fierceness. 'Vanessa' cried Evans, Vanessa’s mother, she strained in her deliverance, and her voice struggled, pain, motherly pain. You could see through her quivering entrails, you saw her transparence, her voice delivered incessantly in mouthfuls of 'Vanessa' like a stuttering of machine gun, she cried, you saw everything, its no use to sum up the situation, one always saw.

'I don’t think, I can live anymore, I thought for a long time, but, I just cannot put it on paper, I only wish that you respect my judgment, love you mother' Jacob ran with an impending strength, the poor mother's voice lost behind him, left him with the traces of agony, how could Vanessa be so foolish? Words that were never said, half said, were left hanging in mid air seeking attention, for they were brutally ostracized. He needed to know, and now, how could he know the intended meaning, for the meaning depended upon the completeness and the object of that grace retreated into the dug trenches of the society, his ascertaining faculties receded, and he left them back at the house as he ran forward. Vanessa! Vanessa! He screamed, and the word slipped at the ends, he strained to plunge and dive with the word, but his stress ran up to the peak at the letter 'n' and slipped his tongue at 'ssa'. How dreadfully powerless his vocal chords were, he struck them, strutted them in violent jerks, but yet, the word slipped at the end. He loved his wife.

How so beautiful, 'Vanessa', she smiled, you could see the nervousness betray you, it would fly off tangent, her pure beauty would bounce off the corners radiating in effervescent excess. 'Jacob, you really are such a prude' Vanessa complained the other day. Jacob returned her gaze ascertaining his upper hand on the matter, but Vanessa stared at him, fixed, unmoved, like a smoke, she did not exist anymore. 'she is floating in a river of hallucination, now she is there, now she is gone' Jacob thought, she was so beautiful, her posture poised elegantly with sickening pride, almost haughtiness, there she was, Jacob just sat there with his head leant backwards, resting on the side of a wall, he measured her, as she surfaced in that river, he gazed at her, through her, apprehended her beauty over the background, he captured it, elusive, but he did capture it eventually. Her beauty shot out from the trunk, the surge of beauty unheeded, she formed everywhere, and her beauty flew through everything, over him, through him, oh! How beautiful she was.

Vanessa poured out her perspiration, drowned Jacob in her veil of attraction, netted him, threw him off guard and he relished in the ascertained momentous bliss, he loved the affirmation, the gentle pat on his senses, the acknowledgement that she cared for him, Jacob palpitated with memories as he ran, and ran till he could no longer run. he violently twitched in agony, lost his control, and slipped tumbling down, tugged on to a stone in one final desperation, but a ceramic pot- someone left it there years ago and it found shelter in the scaffolding since then- beneath his foot gave way, it went rollicking, bouncing over a rock here, a rock there, and finally with one huge gallop into the flow of the river, it made a gulping sound as it descended with its mouth facing the sky. His paucity of energy mocked his endeavors to resurface; he drowned, found a companion on the bed of the flowing river- ceramic pot, leaving behind him a second gulp.

Vanessa loved Jacob, but she could not submit to him, his fullness, he approached her with love for her, unconditional love, it did not matter for him that she loved him too, he needed it ascertained all the time, he gripped her, besieged her with his emotional turmoil, prodded her to constrict, she budged, but that would not suffice, he needed more, he apprehended her, she suffocated in his love. she could not deny him, for her defiance would mean a certain terror for him, but she could not acquiesce either, for she needed room, room to act, room to breathe, room to commit, room to permit. She cared for him, she could not watch him gape at the hollowness she is made of, unfaithfulness, she doubted if she really loved him, for then she would submit herself to his smothering love, but she did not, how could this fallacy exist in her, within her, form in her, and eat her, she must curtail its progress, before it would decapitate her, flow over her trunk, drip her body wet, and Jacob would watch in horror, how she disgraced him, how she denied him, no! She could not let that happen to him. She would kill the plight, she would drown herself.

Evans took the blame almost immediately, ‘if only she had loved her daughter a tad more’ she ascertained.

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