Tuesday, June 7, 2011

A Journal Entry. #1

I am currently taking a writing class. For it, I'm supposed to journal every day. This is my life blog, and the class is Writing Non-Fiction, so a lot of me is going to come out of it. I thought I'd post a bit when I think it's interesting. Incidentally, we're in Colorado for vacation and it's amazing, but we're all suffering from altitude sickness. We hope to be over it tomorrow or the next day. I'll try and post a few pictures soon.


Tonight I sat in the mountain lodge’s hot tub and watched snow-peaked mountains transform from silhouettes in the twilight to glistening phantoms in the dark. My husband and daughter had left not long before, leaving me completely alone. There were no other guests in the pool. There was no lifeguard either. I looked through open doors to the lodge bar. Even the bartender had disappeared. My fanciful mind thought of James Bond and I glanced about the pool to be sure there were no sharks. Again I settled into my view, listening to the sounds of the mountain. I could hear no one.

The music from the bar abruptly stopped, and the thought occurred to me. Was this the hour of ghosts? The pool lights came on with a loud click and hum. The underwater glow made my skin an eerie, translucent green. Was I a ghost?

Water cascaded out of my swimsuit as I jumped out of the hot tub and I was pleased to note that I did not see my own body left behind, and that I left wet footprints as I walked. But ghosts could sometimes move things. I searched for someone—anyone—as I dried off my body. I needed someone to see me, to say good evening or hello, to recognize my existence without horror.

The walk to my building was lonely. An owl hooted in the distance as I approached the door, as if questioning my occupancy. I waited an eternity, or was it only three minutes, for my husband to let me in. Had he forgotten me? What if he couldn’t see me? What if he knew I was dead and in sorrow had shut himself in the room?

But then he appeared. A smile and warm kiss greeted me, and his gentle arm guided me back to our room where our beautiful baby girl was sleeping. If I am dead, then we are all ghosts. And if we are to haunt any place, what more blissful a place than this? The mountains and pure sky shall solace our parting.

1 comment: