Tired. That’s what she was feeling as she packed up her books and papers to head home. The gnawing persistence of responsibility and life wouldn’t let her rest, she felt her muscles weighing her down, gravity settling on her.
How else are you supposed to feel when you can’t cry, she wondered. The loss of constant companions, pressure to meet student expectations, the harassment of unspoken need to publish and show her brilliance, justify the university’s hiring of her. And then the sadness of constant loneliness, she needed that cat like she needed air to breathe. Her friends, moved away, indifferent, unavailable. The need to smile among people she hated. Of course she was tired.
She slid into her car, sat dully for a few moments, preparing for the next step. Heaviness is one way to slow you down, she thought, but there’s no interest in smelling the roses. She hated herself as well in that moment, shaking her head and trying to break free for the drive home. She stopped at the grocery store, shading her eyes from the bright florescent lights as she meandered the aisles. Crackers and cheese, maybe an apple? That would be enough, for tonight. Tomorrow she promised herself she’d prepare something more elaborate, something that would make her feel more purposeful and alive.
It was a relief to thank the cashier and walk away, all human interactions done for the day. She got back into her car, and again paused, thinking through her options. Dull thoughts. Go home, eat crackers, watch TV, passively interact with the world through the internet. Read a bit. Go to sleep too late, because the horror of tomorrow arriving again needed to be delayed as much as possible.
She pulled out of the parking lot, and not knowing where she was going, turned right, away from her home, away from her usual routine. In the darkness, she wasn’t even sure what was on this road, as lights away from shopping centers dimmed and it was trees upon trees dotted with occasional houses. Driving away from obligations and crackers and the heaviness.
Random turns put her into unfamiliar territory; she hesitated to check the GPS, she didn’t want to know quite yet where she was heading. But it also didn’t take many more miles before the heaviness caught up, before she started thinking about the futility of escape, the inability to get beyond the reach of her life. She pulled into an empty lot, to get her bearings and reluctantly turn back.
A burst of energy captured her, was she at war with herself, how could she know what to rely on? She threw open the car door to get out, looked around. Forest was in front of her, a narrow dirt path starting from the parking lot. She stared up at the trees in front of her. She was silent as she took in their expanse, the slight wave of wind greeting her through leaves, the suggestion of noises and things she couldn’t see through the darkness. She knew then what she had to do.
Walking to the edge of the parking lot, she threw her arms open, standing tall, chin up, opening her mouth to the forest. She could feel her lips stretch, her jaw open up, her tongue drop. What she had always suspected was true. She took in the tallest trees, leaves tickling and smallest branches rubbing against her throat on their way in. She leaned forward, opening wider, again and again, as the forest filled her.
Satisfied, she took a last look at the barren sand in front of her, nodded in appreciation and an overwhelming joy at the possibilities ahead, before turning to her car to head home.
Worlds 