This Side Of “Crazy”
A fictional short story expressing hope after a crisis
A thin sliver of light stabbed into the dense air — so dusty it almost looked like smoke. Thick, glittering plumes curled into each other in the stripes of sunlight that snuck past the blinds that covered the window. The gap between the metal slats on the blinds was almost enough so that I could see the top of a nearby tree, and some electrical cables strung across a series of sturdy wooden utility poles.
I held the blinds open just enough to peek at the world. The warmth from the light rays poured over the top of my hand which felt wonderful so I stretched my fingers out in all directions and let the light drench the skin between my fingers.
For that moment I felt gloriously connected to the universe. My euphoria faded when my eyes paused on the painful bruises and sliced skin on the underside of my forearm.
There it was with wounds still healing. It was evidence that I needed help. I pulled my sleeves to cover my self-inflicted injuries. I swallowed painfully while trying not to burst into tears but thankfully my emotional overwhelm was interrupted.
The room began to fill with the sound of sleepy feet walking slowly towards the breakfast line.
