She spent seven years looking for an anchor.
That’s what everyone said she needed. A partner who could ground her, keep her rational, responsible, sensible.
Keep her from herself.
She found him and attached herself to his sanity. His kindness soothed, his composure balanced. He tethered her to this world like a kite string.
Often, she thought of him when she gardened, digging her hands into the soil, marveling at thin strands stretching, reaching down to set themselves.
She daydreamed about roots reaching up. Why not? Into possibility? Into open sky where they might breathe? No, the fragile flowers grabbed earth and wrapped around and held so tightly it took great force to rip them out.
Like the plants, she lived because she was smothered.
Yes, he tethered her—and that is the only way she existed at all.
In early spring, temptation decided to push its way into her pretty life. It shone not like the soft streaks of sunlight through tree branches, but like a flashlight—its beam bright and unforgiving. It exposed her. And the delicate ribbon tying her to him morphed into a thick chain. A leash.
She wouldn’t be a dog, even a beloved one. She was a bird and needed to fly.
Wiping her palms on her jeans, she picked up dirt-caked shears, cut the cord, and walked away. Away from comfort—the home, the garden, and him.
She brushed off dust from the place where she had established respectable roots and danced to a place where her thirst for what she wasn’t supposed to want could be satiated. Because what she needed wasn’t an anchor, but an oasis.
For Week 53, Rachael is celebrating one year of #blogbattle fun by having participants choose a post and re-enter it. I haven’t been participating that long and I don’t get a story in every single week, but I’ve written a few. It really lets me stretch my writing muscles. Thanks, Rachael!
This one, from week 23, is my first flash for #blogbattle.
The prompt: Oasis