Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Personal Peace (06/01/06)
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TITLE: Midnight whisper | Previous Challenge Entry
By Helen Paynter
06/04/06 -
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Just another night for Anna.
Trudge up the damp concrete steps. Push open the lockless door. Scuff at the broken glass that litters the floor.
Scarred wrists protrude from the shapeless cuffs of her sweater.
Perhaps her extra inches compensate for the shriveling of her soul.
She sits, back against the wall, chewing listlessly. Earlier, a passer-by tossed her a pre-packed sandwich. Its plastic-clad sterility mocks her squalor.
She can barely remember the clean touch of cool cotton beneath her cheek. Or a soft duvet embracing her. Tonight, as every night, her pillow is her bag of belongings.
Belongings. What a strange word. The few things that belong to her belong nowhere, as she does.
Her sleeping bag is her only defence against the evils of the world.
She lies down, a grey shape amid grey shadows.
Her eyes close. She settles herself, curled like a fetus.
Deep in her brain, a cluster of cells releases melatonin, draught of sleep. It leeches into her veins, jostles with blood cells, and pulsates with the insistent rhythm of her heart. It courses around her body, lapping at nerve ends and muscle fibres. Soon, every recess of her tired frame is bathed in its milk.
Her clenched fists relax. Her breathing slows. Her face softens. She is a child again.
Adenosine, waste-product of a busy brain, is suffocating her neurons. But they have a mind to tomorrow, and all the thoughts they have yet to think. Molecule by molecule, the poison is consumed and recycled into raw brain power. Tiny bullets stored in her arsenal of concentration.
She does not dream. This is a place where no-one can intrude. A holy, uncluttered place. A safe place.
Her brain waves slow their frenzy.
Alpha - moderato.
Theta - adagio.
Delta - largo.
Across the dance-floor of her mind they tread a stately pavane.
Tuesday, midnight.
Just another night for Anna.
And tonight, as every night, the Holy Spirit broods over her naked soul, breathing upon her with the call of Home.
Stirring up memories of Eden, and whispering to her of Heaven.
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Great Job!
One that is a must read ... over, and over, again. Wow!