And it was at the sight of the first blooming cactus flower that I knew everything was over.
Every breath seemed dirtier than the last as my left cheek grew warm from the morning sun. I spit out the gravelly sand which had crawled into my mouth. I tried to prop myself up on my right hand and realized how much pain I was in, and collapsed onto my back as my cries echoed around me. My right hand, my axe, my tool, my lover, my master, my giver, was broken, and within a waking moment, so was my spirit.
No sooner did the sun begin to burn my entire face did I resolve to deliver myself from hell. I sat up to gain awareness of my surroundings, and with it I realized what dire straits I was in. Nothing but red-flower cacti, as tall as five-story buildings, were all around me. It was evident that it wasn’t even morning, but dead noon. The sweat that began to bead on my forehead reminded me of my throat more parched than this desert, and for a moment, I forgot about my injury. Rumbles of thunder awoke what life there was in the sand. Bugs began to slither across the pebbles and into burrows beneath me. Birds, the kind of which I had never seen before, fluttered between the flowers. The sky, suddenly dim, filled with clouds and burst open. Sheets of rain soaked me. My mouth stayed open as long as I could manage it. The rain had now beaten me back to the muddy ground, and the stream forming underneath began to carry me, meandering through the thorny trees, and I was at its mercy. I was drowning in sorrow and pity, rather than rejoicing in the quenching of my thirst. I wished for the water to dry out.
I awoke again, dried out and in an open meadow. It was a night filled with stars and constellations I couldn’t recognize, with three dim moons that seemed to mock me amongst them. I couldn’t tell if days, weeks, or months had passed. My wrist was sore, but my hand no longer immobile. But as I began to inspect the rest of my body, I noticed how gaunt I felt. My bones were no longer masked by neither muscle nor fat. I was a skeleton, supporting nothing but taut skin between my limbs. When I stood, I towered over the grass around me, and stared in every direction until I could no longer remember where I began. The familiar cacti and birds were nowhere to be found. The only thing that seemed to remain alive, besides myself, was a breeze that swept across the tops of the grasses. Goosebumps that formed on my fragile body reminded me I was alone, cold, and painfully hungry. I fell into a ball at as I clenched my gut with desire for even a small nibble of bread. The incessant breeze waned and broke. The grasses took their rest and stretched their thin bodies, while the moons began to dance. The scent of warm yeast filled the air, and the grasses began to wilt. Fresh loaves of bread emerged from the steaming ground, and rice and roasted vegetables, and sweets and salts and butters and fruits, and even animals approached and began to offer me a hand. And my hunger was satiated faster than I could realize I was out of breathe. Suffocating beneath the mound of food that was suddenly bestowed upon me, I disappeared.
I heard a door open, and the sight that walked in momentarily blinded me. I sprung up with an intensity I’ve never felt before. Alive, is how I felt. And as I passed through the doorway, I was elated to discover a heavenly scene. A lake so clear I could count the grains of brilliant sand at its bottom, enveloped by green velvet around its shore, cradled by snow-capped mountains. Behind me was a thatched-roof structure, created by someone that must’ve caught a glimpse of the blueprints of my heart. The breeze played wind-chimes of content amongst the evergreens surrounding me, and carried in hundreds of pairs of birds of every color, whose songs’ vibrations discovered my soul’s favorite tunes. And as I explored my land, I formed friendships with every atom, every pulse, and every breathe that I was comprised of. I was in love.
An eternity passed, and I did not change, but I grew. I never wished for anything, because I had everything I could ever imagine needing.
Everything remained the same, until I was interrupted by a reflection on my lake so serene, so dissimilar yet so familiar, so desirable. I ran. I ran towards the place on the shore from where the reflection emerged. I ran faster than ever before, because for the first time I felt I was missing something. I reached the origin of the reflection and immediately recognized that something had left a mark. A hole, a nothingness, was all that remained in this part of my woods. And as I walked back to my cabin, the emptiness behind me felt like a match had been lit in my heart. A subtle and dull burning, slow to leave me with a bitter-sweet taste. And I fell asleep longing to taste more sweetness.
Some sleepless nights later, as the moons danced with each other once again, the stars began to fall on my lake like rain. And amongst the misty splatter, I heard a laugh echo through the mountains more beautiful than any bird song in my heart. I ran again, this time to find a light in the nothingness in the woods. So attracted to this light, so enamored by its sounds and smells, I simply watched it in awe. And an angelic voice began to speak. I heard about other lands, other thoughts, and other desires. And by this light I fell asleep and awoke to a dimmer day, in which I suddenly felt alone. No matter that I recognized and loved everything around me, I could only focus on the empty spot in the woods.
Every night, I would go to the space in the forest and wait. And when the light occasionally appeared, my heart grew, and we shared everything, and I was content. But the dim days became dimmer, and therefore I decided to capture my light to brighten every day. And I began to bring jars and bottles and tried to seal my new friend in them. I was constantly longing for our comfort and conversations, and begged for more glass to fill my home. And every evening, a crate of jars appeared at my doorstep. And every evening I would spend with my friend, and steal a bit more light to keep.
My home was filled with so much brilliance, I could no longer escape it to rest. One evening, as I ventured to the eternal flame on the shore, I noticed how dim it had become. I had taken too much. I was too greedy. I needed it too much. I ran home with more jars, and felt the burning at home that now only tasted bitter. But it was all I desired, and as I sat inside with my light, the world around me began to rot. I forgot how to play with the wind and dance with the sky. I simply yearned to be in the warmth of my cabin. But my light was now in a space in which it did not belong, and its flames began to turn blue.
On the last night, I packed as many jars as I could carry on my back, and tried to find the flame in the woods. But it had burnt out. After so many stolen conversations and embraces, the light had disappeared, and when I finally arrived at the emptiness, it was nothing again. I knelt down and glass shattered, and tears fell, and I wished for as much light as existed in the universe. My eyes opened to a view of the other side of the lake, where my home stood. Flames higher and brighter than I had ever seen devoured my hearth. They spread across my forest and leaped from limb to tree-top to hillside. And the fire engulfed all I could see and finally reached my empty space in the woods. I was taunted, and teased, and burned, and became nothing.
And it was at the sight of the first blooming cactus flower that I knew everything was over.
