the alarm went off at 630am, jolting her out of bed. the throbbing at her temples made her half wish that she didn’t decide to catch the sunrise. after all, her balcony faced west. there’d be no emerging of the sun, just a gradual illumination of the horizon. but she grabbed her camera and headed out, still hopeful that there’d be something there for her. she was optimistic that way.
perhaps the gods that governed her ancestors’ lives had secrets to tell her. they were dead to her, but alive to those who crafted them long ago. she liked to think that the men who made the deities out of their minds and hands left parts of their soul in the painted faces. perhaps she’ll hear them speak.
there’s no end to what men can do, she thought. we take what’s whole and break it into something new. we like to think of ourselves as the gods we create. and still, there’s the sunrise. that reminds us that we best be humble.
she walked gingerly along the planks over the water, not wanting to think what would happen if one failed to hold her weight. it was a frightening thought but she wanted to capture it forever, just to remind herself that life is temporary. but while she felt her heart beating against its cage, life was good.
the ocean breeze was forgiving. it calmed the chaos ruminating in her head. just why did she get up to greet the day anyway? the gods in their gilded homes were silent even when she gazed into their eyes. the restored roofs were inaccessible to her, the broken porcelain mocking her mortality. but the waves swept that away. just come, they said.
yes, only the water speaks to her. that was what drew her to the window in the morning. it wasn’t the sun. she searched in the elements that promised wealth and balance, but they spoke nothing. only the water reminds her that the gods distract us from the truth.
one day, she will live there with the water and hear Him speak till time ends.