Salon September
by Christopher Sheppard
Follow The Light
A white orb hovering above my head. Is it a hallucination, a moment of lucidity? I catch it, hold it delicately in my hand. At first, nothing extraordinary happens, its power still mysterious to its holder. What could it symbolize? What will it do? A sudden bright,white glow. A flash of lightning overhead. A shock courses through my veins and flows through. A certain weightlessness arises within me, almost as if I am being transported through another dimension, as I fly through space and time. Suddenly… the darkness envelops me, until I awaken again.
The destination seems to be a garden, with trees arched almost as if in a canopy, clouding me from the sky. As I begin to look closely at the trees themselves, I slowly begin to realize that these trees are not made of bark and leaves. As I run my hand over it, I feel the sensation of parchment.The smell of fresh ink permeates my nostrils. Etched carefully into the parchment are words: letters to lovers lost, poems to capture the imagination, or words simply there because someone wished to put their thoughts to paper. Where there should have been leaves, the king and queen of diamonds atop the highest branches, with all the numbered cards interspersed throughout the tree itself. I have never seen such a captivating landscape before. A raven passes overhead, its wings shifting between the black of the sky and the ochre of the ground, melding perfectly between the two. One can only smile at the imagery. Then, with a sudden sense of something ominous, there starts a rumble, steadily rising in volume as the playing cards start falling from the parchment trees, whirling like madness, and slowly start chasing after me, gaining in speed. I run, but their incessant fluttering slowly overwhelms me, engulfing me…
And then suddenly, I am not there at all, but in a white room with no windows, seemingly entrapped within its confines. No sense of urgency or desire would get me out of this place. The walls begin to constrict, sucking the already thin air out of the room. I close my eyes wishing it would all just end. And then, an epiphany. I remember the time I was a child trying to discover my true calling, when magic came into my life. One of my favorite tricks was that of transforming myself into any object. I suddenly realize that with a simple snap of my fingers, I could be anything I desired. So as I bring my fingers together, I think of what I truly wish to be…
And then I am in the clouds, for I AM a cloud, something that would allow me to float above the world and escape the horrors I had been in, and I am able to rain down on myself.
I am standing on a dreary sidewalk somewhere in what I believe to be Europe. There is a clock on the side of the road that I feel is giving the wrong time. However, there is no one around to confirm that. I slowly walk towards the clock and quickly find that I am able to manipulate it with my mind, the second and hour hands slowly tick, tick. Tick…. And then, sleep and blackness overwhelm me.
I am back where I started…or at least it seems that way. I am still holding the white orb in hand, however it seems as if its magic has run out, a simple sphere now instead of the vibrant, mysterious object. However, dear reader, if one were to have stared into that orb with the magician’s eye, the magician’s sense..then one would have seen their journey, their story, portrayed in perfect detail, like a crystal ball’s prediction.
So, my friends, while the orb may have many answers, it certainly asks of you many questions: how will the orb choose you…and what path will it lead you down?