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December 2019

WEP DECEMBER 2019 CHALLENGE, FOOTPRINTS OF CHANGE by Pat Garcia

 

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WC: 593

 

The tide rolled in. Water covered her feet and rose ankle-deep. Jamie pivoted one hundred eighty degrees to go back the way she came. But the water was everywhere. Her footprints washed away. Trees surrounded her, and the water had now risen knee-deep, flowing through her legs, almost touching her knees.

A slow motioned about-face put her face to face with the sea, threatening to make her a forgotten fatality never to be found. Jamie stood still contemplating, trying not to panic as she considered her options. A forest thickened and darkened by leaves that restricted the light or a sea that she knew she couldn't swim across.

Jamie studied the sea as she listened to the voices in her head. What had started out as an afternoon stroll to clear her head and to think over new plans that would challenge her and affect her destiny had become a bizarre test of her courage to outlive a high tide. Jamie pondered over how long it would take the water to recede and go back to where it came from. The water sloshed against her legs, reminding her that seas and oceans remained, but the water didn't climb higher. At least the sea was not one of those angry Gods, she thought. Not wanting to appear afraid, Jamie turned again to look at the trees. She didn't want to wait for the tide to ebb or stand in one spot for what seemed like forever and never change.

Movement was what she needed, but movement toward where?

The trees, silly, she thought. People who cared for her would be worried. How could she have been so ignorant as to forget the strong tidal waves in this part of the world?

Jamie began walking, creating her own waves as she waded through the water in the forest. Stopping, she walked to one of the trees and leaned against it and took off her shoes. Deciding to walk with her bare feet, Jamie stepped forward, and her right foot sunk into something profound. She screamed and bent down to touch what she had stepped into. Wax shaped into a footprint of someone or something whose feet were more massive than hers. Jamie shook her head. Whoever would leave a wax footprint in a forest. Not being able to identify the print due to light sparsely let into the woods by leaves on the trees, Jamie tapped until she touched the next print, hoping that the footprints would lead her back to civilization and her friends.

It would soon be time for dinner. Would anyone of them miss her or would they think she needed time to be alone to herself?

Jamie sighed. She shut and opened her eyes rapidly, to make sure she was seeing correctly. No longer at her knees, the water was receding, returning slowly back to where it belonged. She looked up at the trees and noticed that more light shone through than before. She could see bits and pieces of the sky. Then, the strangest thing happened. The waxed footprints evolved into piles of sand.

No one would believe her she thought as she reached the edge of the forest and walked away. Footprints out of wax that reverted to sand as the water rolled back. Unlikely, her friends would say in a polite way and think she was nutty again.

Jamie grunted. The suspension of unbelief had bred into belief and had become a reality for her. Something that she would let no one take away. The impossible had become possible, and she would cherish the moment forever.

                                     ***

 

 

Merry Christmas Everyone and have a safe crossover into 2020.

 

Shalom aleichem,

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Pat Garcia