Lost

There are alligators lurking beneath bridges that leap into meadows that hold a time in the past when people road in horse-drawn carriages. I am lost and frightened. My cellular phone does not exist, so I cannot tell you that I am hungry and cold. I cannot explain to you how luminescent the grass and flowers are here. I have fallen in love with the past and lost my way. Death awaits me. It lingers in muddy waters with the cloying sweet breath of honeysuckle. I look up at the sky and hope that you are looking up at the same time thinking of me beyond the aftermath of a well-planned party.

I feel damp. I wish I could hold your hand and walk down this dirty path with less fear. If you were here I would not be frightened. I would already be home in the palm of your warm hand. I would be safe.

It's closer now: the dark green scales hover inches above the water and I must cross the bridge on tip-toe. I must divide time in half and hope that it does not swallow me with large sharp teeth and whipping speed. The dew on the grass freezes and I can hear my mother humming lullabies in the distance. The sweet tunes calm me like chamomile. I trip and fall into the icy water and wonder if this is the moment when the world collapses in on me. Every sound ceases to exist and darkness holds me in a chilly embrace.

I struggle free and the sun points daggers of light in my eyes. I look down at my path and it is dry. It winds up to the home I left hours ago seeking an adventure that would change me just as much as it would help me to remain the same. I am on my way. I will be there soon.