Hope Given
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Written for the prompt : "Pamela, sunshine"
Things were different now, living in a world that she would never again see change. Darkness forever, the dimming memories of light and color growing ever more distant. The darkness had brought with it a welter of despair and desperation. The overwhelming urge to give up had threatened, loomed like a storm cloud in an early evening sky, swallowing the last of the day's light .
Life hadn't been over, but at first it felt like it may as well have been. She'd paused, hesitant of the prospect of taking that final step . . . psychic powers be damned; they were what had got her into this mess and they were what kept her here now, the threat of what could be her due afterward more than sufficient to stop her.
Time passed, slowly, interminable like the passing of ages, the grinding of a rock to sand. There was no changing of light to signify the passing of time, no clocks to keep track of the incessant march toward the end. There'd also been no commitment to routine any longer, just an endless monotony of what life now was.
Then Spring had arrived, new life, new growth and ultimately new hope. Outside in the garden, she'd been hit by the shock of powerfully scented hyacinths and daffodils, triggering an explosion of remembered color, gardens and borders and woodlands of childhood, youth and adulthood, pushing back the weight of the darkness of now.
She sat down to savor the experience, slowing her breathing to relish the feeling as if she would breathe deeply and exhaust the scent before Spring could pass. She closed her eyelids, the illusion of choice as to whether to see her surroundings or not a relief from the truth.
She relaxed and felt as the sun moved round in the sky, warming her skin, soaking deep into her soul with a sense of the light and hope that she could no longer see. A new beginning.