Painting Fiction Challenge

Chambered Nautilus
Chambered Nautilus  by Andrew Wyeth

 

Perfect Spirals

Stephanie is safe –  enclosed –  bathed by the morning sun.

A new day.

“How I got here doesn’t matter”

She tells herself and keeps telling herself to make it sink in.

“What they did can’t take anymore more of me”

“I can’t let those bastards do their work”

She knows it’s over …. she remains …. they are gone – well at least for 7- 10 years. She was hoping for more – she was hoping for a lightning bolt to rip through the courtroom and fry them right there —- take all the pain away —- singe them to pieces – until only a remnant of those evil smirking lips remain — Yeah, …  leave those smoldering relics on the floor so they can be stomped – “I am Alice taking back my Wonderland and you — you evil Cheshire cat lips — you are crushed back into the darkness from whence you came”.

“A new life, my life.”

She looks at her nautilus shell from happier days. A shell she found in the fresh wash of the waning tide on a faraway island.  The spiral shape that once surrounded a living thing – Maybe everything is a spiral? – maybe that is how it works. One thing builds on another and another in a perfect harmony that only takes full shape in the end. You just keep living and you just keep trying. None of us knows what will be for us – we are all too caught up to see.

That sun lights her face. There is hope. Out there are countless failures and victories waiting for her. Beckoning her to move forward.

Our star in our own little corner of this great spiraling galaxy. This giant Milky Way turning and turning while it plays its part in the greater scheme of time and space.

The only thing it doesn’t do is go backwards.

“Maybe how I got here does matter?”

Countless shells on countless beaches spread through eons and eons – and countless scumbags doing damage to countless victims over and over and over.

Stephanie thinks about that and it does sink in — we all become shells — we all become used packages of our souls. Every single one of us.

No exceptions.

So you make amends the best you can – you do what you have to put it behind you – if the only way forward is to forgive, you may even have to do that —— forgive your god for allowing such vermin to be produced and forgive the perps themselves for they have no conception of the damage they do.

One day they will understand and one day it will all make sense. A perfect spiral of symmetry where you thought only chaos dwelt.

Shells and galaxies alike – turning and struggling – gravity and fire burning and pulling – ocean currents – swirling tides flowing back and forth.

It somehow works out.

 

 

Notes: This is my first attempt at writing fiction – It went much deeper and darker than I would have imagined — but then again — I don’t know how it goes, that is the beauty of swimming in different water and trying new things. 

Any comments — good, bad, or indifferent really appreciated on this post.

Thank you my friends