Snapshot

I took a snapshot in my memory the other day. It was a brilliant moment. A flash, if you will. A photograph seared in time.

Perhaps my brain has already changed it. I remember it so vividly, and it is an incredible and saddening thought to me that my brain edits the things I remember. Do you ever wonder if your memories are real, or just mere constructions of your psych?

 

The moment the sun gave its last kiss to her part of the earth as it sunk below the horizon. Its last hurrah, she thought, watching as the bellies of the clouds illuminated from below. The sky in stunning shades, so vibrant. The silhouettes of the trees and houses just before. The lake, still and silent. The gentle breath of wind on her cheek, caressing her skin so softly.

It was a moment come and a moment gone. A moment in which her very heartbeat stilled, and the world around her ceased to turn. A moment through which clarity beckoned, so fleeting that she missed its soft call, before the sun disappeared and the world began to turn again. Heavily, slowly, like ancient cogs on a vast machine.

The sun vanished, and the cold settled in, and she wrapped her wrappers tightly about her shoulders and made her way back home in the increasing darkness.

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12 thoughts on “Snapshot

  1. I have moments like this. Moments where you have sudden insight, where you almost seem to see into the mind of God. Where you realise that everything you have been holding onto is an illusion. Where “reality” seems to be stripped back like so much old wallpaper, and you see the infinity. The nothingness. If you’re lucky you can hold onto this feeling for minutes. But then, as you say, the world turns, the cogs start turning, and you’re back to your customary thoughts and feelings. I’ve no doubt this state is one of the most ancient in the world.

    Liked by 1 person

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