Walk With Me

The wrought iron gate barred this peaceful place from the searing lights of the city. Shadows cloaked me, and the moon shown down with a sympathetic eye.

“Walk with me.” The man held out a hand. His offer flowed over me light as a breeze. The weight of my world billowed from my shoulder before settling again.

"Walk with me." The trees echoed the whispered invitation.

"Too many depend upon me." I had jobs to finish, relationships to rebuild, amends to be made. The pressure of duty weighed upon me so heavily it nearly drove me to my knees.

"Walk with me." The words brushed across my face like a cool hand on a fevered forehead.

Choked with guilt and despair, I reached for the hand, and the weight dropped away. The vessel that had carried it for so long hit the stones with a thud, and I felt light as air. The ethereal specter led me past the body that used to be me.

I didn’t remember letting my hair grow so long or putting on my favorite dress that day. My gaze drifted from the corpse, over the gravestones, and to the brilliant lights of the city as the color leached from them, leaving a blinding white glare against silhouetted buildings. A gaping void opened in the place that once held all my obligations. Fear rushed in.

Releasing the hand, I ran to the iron bars separating me from my life, but they no longer let me pass.

Photo by KoolShooter