I stumbled through the dense pine forest right into Meditation Pool I. The jolt of cold water brought me back from the hallucinations born of seeking sanctuary – days on the run without food, and scarce water. Could that be a voice above the surface calling …
“Ms. Michael, Ms. Michael. at last. We were concerned when you appeared to have wandered off at the airport.” There was a pleasant soothing sound to the speaker. “Jenkins, I’ve found Michael in Med. Gard. 1,” a little less smoothly into the walkie-talkie. “A bit feraled but alright.”
I was expertly whisked away to a suite of rooms with matching soothing colours of wall, linens, vases of flowers with soothing perfumes. Hopefully, Ms. Michael and I were of similar look and build so I might continue the guise that I was her.
The staff had unpacked her luggage – now empty shells tucked into the closet back. Clothes not my taste, but of my size. Documents revealed a passing resemblance, with perhaps a change in weight, glasses and hair style accounting for anomalies.
I was the other empty shell sucking up Ms. Michael as I found her: no infinity scarves; very little makeup; only natural lemon scented skin products; ultra soft cotton clothing – woman must be a fabric softener addict – flat shoes with wide, broad toes. Pads of yellow pad, lines oriented horizontally like a computer screen, pens, post-it-notes in at least 10 different shades, a state-of-the-art Surface note book, and smarter phone. Lots of info there to to harvested.
Literature tastefully placed around the room suggested I was at a healing retreat – what was Ms. Michael healing from ? – for a two week stay. A itinerary had been left – going by my survival watch, she was missing for three days. No wonder the relief at finding me floating in the meditation pool.
It appeared that people went missing from the retreat – everything was set for Ms. Michael to arrive – without notifying the authorities, friends or families of the person in question. Strange. But perhaps the idea was no contact with the outside world. I turned on the cell phone – boon if it worked – to discover no wifi hot spot to go with the hot springs. I was sure the same would happen with the notebook. Useless vestiges of the outer world brought into the inner sanctum.
Just the sort of place I might find sanctuary: gather enough intel to be Ms. Michaels for awhile; long enough to recast myself; and relax and sleep with just one eye open.
As to the real Ms. Michael – I hope she found the sanctuary she was actually seeking. I’d mediate good thoughts for her during my session in an hour.
Written for Tale Weaver: A Place of Healing (1st December, 2016)
December 3, 2016 at 3:28 pm
A vandictive narrator, something like a body snatcher is what I picture. They’re becoming this woman, taking over her life, she’s in reality — out if the picture. Somehow how her soul/spirit “herself” goes when she takes her body. Interesting. I don’t know if I’m at all on the right track. But I liked your story!
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December 3, 2016 at 7:36 pm
Glad you liked it and it is open to interpretation. Among other things, I envisioned a whole series of women escaping their lives by taking over another escapee’s life. So, roll the story any way that works for you!
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December 3, 2016 at 2:19 am
We are always escaping or reinventing ourselves. Common as a cold. Great feel 🙂
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December 3, 2016 at 2:32 am
Thank you, I think, for giving you the feel of a common cold, lol.
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December 3, 2016 at 2:31 pm
I’m not sure there is anything common about you.
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December 3, 2016 at 7:34 pm
Okay — the uncommon cold? I’m the atypical girl
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December 3, 2016 at 8:57 pm
I would expect noting less from you at this point. 😉
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December 3, 2016 at 9:30 pm
Ah, that sets the bar high.
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December 2, 2016 at 11:20 am
ooohhh this is amazing – I really like the voice, the characterization, the mystery …. the touches of being found in a meditation pool floating, of being “on the run” – and then shifting into someone else’s identity – you’ve offered such a tantalizing gift here, where there are so many questions swirling in my head, that I’m like “whoa – awesome” – yet this story is such a great and complete unit as it is! Love the writing Lorraine. I wish I could be as creative and well written and versed as you! :)
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December 2, 2016 at 12:07 pm
But you are — I envy how imagery full and intense your stories are — such as your response to the Tale Weaver this week. I read it, breathless, and think — oh, but if I could put words, ideas, images together like Pat does.
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December 2, 2016 at 1:18 pm
LOL – well here we are – funny how it we often are moved and inspired and see the “value” in others, and yet, can’t see it or quite grasp it within ourselves; I mean, it’s kind of like that dancing taste that is on the tip of the tongue, a spice or flavour that has mixed in with the others, yet stands out just enough to make you want to name it …. at least, that’s the closest I can come to when I’m trying to describe this …. always thinking, “nope, that’s not quite right or it” …. really maddening! So maybe, here and now, today, in this moment, I’ll offer to you the compliment again, and graciously accept your compliment to me, and maybe, I’ll just be able to think and actually “feel believe know it” – trust it – and not let myself self-doubt – let the mystery and unnamed and unknowable be – just as it is – for whatever it is ;) [but oh this drives me insane!]
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December 2, 2016 at 4:26 pm
Some of us readily see the bad in another — a trait shared perhaps, but to recognize good in the good in others inside ourselves is like stopping the earth for a minute, it’ll never happen.
What we see in ourselves we can see in others, what we can see in others we can’t see in ourselves. See what I mean?
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December 2, 2016 at 8:35 pm
Absolutely. I totally get what you are saying.
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December 2, 2016 at 9:06 pm
So let’s say we can see the good writing in ourselves reflected in the good writing of the other, or the good writing of the other reflected in the good writing of ourselves? Can we manage that? Admit we can write and do so in a breath without comparison? The I can write and so can she with the and she does it better? Tough task.
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December 3, 2016 at 9:50 am
LOL …. you know, somewhere in this tangle and slight ambiguous comment thread, there is the makings for a post ;)
Right – let’s just say: “I think you write exceptionally well and I value your creativity and unique voice.” :)
And I say to myself: “your style is a individual to you – and speaks of you – no more or less – and this is my gift. ”
or something like this :D
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December 2, 2016 at 8:16 am
A most intriguing response Lorraine..one does hope she finds the sanctuary she was seeking…..thanks for participating in this weeks Tale weaver…
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December 2, 2016 at 8:33 am
Most welcome. You’re getting a wide range of excellent responses.
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