The Blind Man Society

A very rough snippet from what I’m writing at the shop…feedback is always welcome!

THE HEAVEN LAKE

It didn’t take long to clear the heaven lake, and I closed in on the center dividing path that separated the waters. I couldn’t decide if this path was life, purgatory or a path of the wanderer. Maybe, it was all three.

There were insects on this path – hiding in the growth. Many. Grasshoppers and crickets that were all over the ground behind a single section of fence that for some reason was only set up to guard against cutting across that way alone. They really reminded me, exploding all around the ground and hopping everywhere, like mid-point motioned sand falling through an hourglass.

I thought about nine stories I had written as I passed the single wall of fence guarding this path. It was unpaved. A dirt road, with weeds all over it. And, I started humming “Where Corn Don’t Grow” to myself as I walked by. Especially the lyric: “And you’ll think you’ll find the answer to it all, where corn don’t grow.”

Personally, I always thought that song was about finding God.

Concealed in the weeds where you would least expect to find him.

Stopping, I grabbed on to the lone fence section and put my fingers through the links. I just looked down the path that was materializing in the rising color. The chain link made it impossible to have a clear, unfettered view. Anybody could walk around it easily and gain access. But, nobody ever did. It was like the elephant that was chained to a chair and didn’t move away from it because of its tethering.

Turning thoughtfully, I walked on. And, a minute or two later, I came upon the lake I termed hell. There were only black birds that gathered in this lake, and the islands that protruded from the water line were all dark, muddy and dying. The rising light made all the dark sticks and branches look orange, and it reminded me of fresh kindle in the fireplace as the fire took hold. Little flaming beings that danced like wild savages seemed to spring out of the wood as the rising light played on them. These beings tore at the branches as they hissed and groaned, and the more they did the more powerful they became. To me, it was the purity of the wood that they fed on. And, after they had finished, they died down and went to glowing embers and grey ash in what seemed to be a dead lake at sunrise.

***Basically, the loop is life. The path, that is lit for the observer that walks around it and views the heaven lake filled with white life, cranes and other birds, fish in the water, the life path in the middle separating the waters – unpaved and a dirt road, and the hell lake that is illuminated in fire every morning by the rising sun and the way it slants in. People on the circular path are contained in this microcosm of life and there are three exit points – the heaven side, the hell side, and the life section – but that path is not paved and leads to a separate road – with heavy traffic. ***