Hey kids, I know this will be a big departure from my most recent line of posts, mostly about all things sex related but I loved this prompt so I am switching gears today. Hope you can appreciate the other side of Random Girl.
Studio Thirty Plus is having a writing prompt in the forum this week. It is one word: Concrete. Here is my take on that.
I hit the concrete hard. There was no soft landing, no recoil. Just a hard thud. In my stunned confusion, it didn't even really register with me. There was just the impact and me laying there, unmoving and uncertain. Should I get up? Could I?
Nothing was certain now. What seemed like solid ground, a firm standing, a place of complete confidence of what was under my feet had now transformed into my cruel punishment. What I had once stood on with my head held high and smile on my face was now the same place I was face down, broken and bent, bleeding and crying. And I don't even know what happened.
Or why it happened. I had been so careful with my steps. So intentional. Each one thought out and planned carefully. The climb up had been the greatest challenge for me. Stairs, so perfectly formed and stretching in an endless symmetrical pattern as far up as I could see. I was so excited to start that climb. I stretched carefully and visualized my legs moving in a perfect rhythm, my breathing timed to its own cadence. One foot, then the next. Higher and higher I climbed. My mind consumed with the end result, my victory.
When it happened, I couldn't believe that my stride had been broken. I was in such a perfect rhythm. I knew where my foot would land on the next step. I had relaxed into the effort, and had allowed my mind to go from the next step to the end result. And that was my fatal mistake. To get to the end, the next step must be executed as flawlessly as the last and I had lost sight of that. Swept up in my rush to complete and rejoice, I missed the next small but crucial step.
And that was all it took to send me off stumbling down, no chance to catch myself, to stop my descent. One sharp edge after another had its way with me, throwing me this way and that. My arms came up instinctively to cover my face, to try to protect what I could while knowing I had no control over the final damage.
The fall was much quicker than the climb. The concrete below my body was cold, almost soothing to my brokenness. I decided to just lay there for a while. Thankful for the fall that let me know that there was solid ground under me after all.