"Em, it's time," said Mairi. No response. "Are you there? Em?"
"I'm here."
"You don't sound excited. What's wrong?" Silence on the other end of the comm. "Em, talk to me, what's wrong?"
"I don't know what to say."
"Okay. Let's do this. Imagine you are going to make a journal entry and you can only write one sentence. What would you write?"
"Confused."
More static.
"I said one sentence, not one word." Em didn't respond. "I'm kidding. Please, continue."
Her voice straining not to crack, Em added, "Consumed with a nauseous fear. I can't shake it. I feel it growing, eating me from the inside out as if there is something not of me, inside of me. I can't touch it, I can't reach it, I can't run it off and it is inside me, growing."
Mairi sighed. "Keep going. I'm listening."
"I thought when I lost my sight, I had lost my world. I thought that if I could only get my sight back, then everything would be as it should, that life would be good again. And now, now that I might very well have that sight . . .
The sound of static and breathing sweated the comm. Em continued. "I've learned to see without my eyes. When you see without eyes you see what you never knew was there all along. You see in ways that few with eyes can see. You see with your heart. You see without all the images of vision that mislead and divert. And now, as I stand at that door again, I'm afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"That I'm trading one sight for another. That I'll be poorer in the bargain."
Mairi started talking when she realized the line was dead.
25 comments:
Thats a dillema. If I were Em I'd be feeling the same way.
Your writing incorporated thought provoking stuff! I love it. I can't wait to read more xx
Elise, as does yours. For all my readers, I would highly recommend visiting Elise if you like good--I mean, very, very good prose. As always, thanks for the kind words.
Again, you made this conversation so intense. You do a fantastic job of describing how Em is feeling, I was so touched.
Jane
Jane, you are very kind. Thank you.
Very impressive Tree, another two-fer. I don't have the right words for this. Just that it was so beautifuly written, that I can feel it with Em....lovely. Jennifer
Thank you Jennifer. :-)
Ooooh, of all the ways I saw this fractual playing out, I didn't see it as a retina. Though of course, it clearly is. "trading one sight for another" Yes, it could be a losing proposition. I think I could learn a lot on writing dialog from going back and reading more of yours. hehe, I could claim it as research, not just chilling on the web procrastinating.
Wamblings, my favorite bits of dialogue are the drunken snootfests we've seen between Von and Rog and sometimes John. Not the best dialogue--they are drunk after all--but the most fun to write and I think the most fun to read. Of course, it goes without saying, they've all been written in/under the proper spirit(s)--pun intended. :-D
You know, I'm having a hard time taking my mind off your fingers. :-D
Very nicely done. Trading one sight for another. Love it.
AW, always nice to see you stopping by. Thanks for the kind words. :-)
*trails teasing fingers across your left shoulder* Don't you just wish I wasn't gay!
In the world of my imagination, it just don't matter. :-D
Twowoohoo!
I've learned to see without my eyes. The fear is understandable and has roots in several pots, I suspect, one wonders though if there is any basis for the fear, whether once the heart knows it's own sight, it could be any different. Confused is the proper beginning as she continues, few have not felt what she describes, and though the sentences bubble out of her as she is prompted by Mairi and in trying to define her confusion, she explains it so eloquently. A wonderful piece of writing, typical of you in the sense that once again in what seems such an effortless fashion you convey thoughts and feelings that are most often considered inexplicable. Simplicity is the key, as Em here, in just telling it like it is, knowing that we/they are essentially the same, our desires, our fears, our needs, that to understand one doesn't always need to explain. Excellent chapter, no time for more, more to read. :-D
Sweetest, I have a feeling Trev has something to do with her emotional state at the moment. Remember that last chapter with Em and the brush and ink on the bed--Black Blood--where she says:
"Please what? What?! Look at me. These eyes. What good are these eyes. What good?"
"Ms Em, I don't understand."
"He's gone. I don't expect you to understand. How could you? You're a mechanical."
In other words, I don't think she was telling Mairi everything. Sounded good, and enough truth to be believable, but I've got a feeling our dear Châtelaine is experienced enough in these matters of the heart to know what is really going on. :-D
As for the prose in this chapter--it felt awkward to me, didn't have the flow I would like to see. I had the feeling of it clunking along, very mechanical, predictable and the pacing a little off. Then again, I never seem to be all too happy with most of these chapters, so what do I know. :-D
I would imagine being able to see things I couldn't see before if I lost my sight.
And I could only imagine my other senses coming together to create a new and improved sense of sight that was a completely different any sense of sight I'd every known.
You get used to living a certain way and grow accustomed to living according to what has worked well for you and then when you go back to the old, for whatever reason, ....you have to learn how to incorporate the best of both worlds...and that is often very difficult.
And scary.
And that's where the butter comes in. Of course, just SO you know, not everyone knows how to handle a stick of real Wisconsin butter. SO don't believe everything you hear. I'm having a hard time getting the QST off my mind. :-D
She can always close her eyes and use both :]
LMAO, I don't think she's thought of that. :-D
LMAO! Imagination is a beautiful thing.
Oh Wamblings, you have no frailing idea. Around here it (my overactive imagination) is called Fault #1. :-D
But then as writers, our imaginations have to be King. Sometimes it is really hard to move out of imagination back into the real world long enough to pay bills, etc. As I fall asleep at night I am imagining myself in the arms of the beautiful Aussie who owns my heart. Thanks to immigrations (and a husband with no sense of humor on the subject) it isn't likely to ever happen. Still I dream and beg the universe to arrange itself so she and I could be together. In the meantime, smirks I can flirt bi.
Morning Wamblings. The world of the imagination is a very interesting world. I do most of my writing in the morning, before I am fully awake--seems this is the most fertile ground upon which ideas run and romp and play before my mind's eye. Once I'm fully up and my day has started and it's time to pay bills, the playfulness of the mind takes a backseat. I find five things unlock my imagination: images, music, whiskey, pain, interesting words. Long distance relationships are tough. I feel for you there.
I've learned to see without my eyes. When you see without eyes you see what you never knew was there all along. You see in ways that few with eyes can see. You see with your heart. You see without all the images of vision that mislead and divert...
My brother is blind, so I appreciate these wonderful words. Thank you Trée.
You are very welcomed Deb. :-)
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