I can see her swimming in the thick black mucous of despair, treading frantically, head just above the dark sticky mess. And I can see that part of her is desperate to be dragged out but the other part is just too tired to care if her head should sink below.
And while I know how her heavy heart threatens to drag her under I am a lifeguard that never learnt to swim; reduced to shouting useless instructions from the edge in a helpless panic.
4 comments:
I hate that helpless feeling of seeing it happen, knowing what needs to be done, but not being able to get there, to do anything more than agonize.
Ooh, I've been there, helplessness is hopeless isn't it?
at a faraway place in space and time, i distinctly recall a small net and hoop, on a pole, which was offered to swimmers in trouble, at some points.
if needed, there may always be a metaphorical one hanging around on a hook somewhere.
Hey, this writing is rather good, I think.
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