Humid

The humidity bears down on me, but the air it drags is cool. I feel the moisture all around me – between my fingers, on my throat, glistening on my lips. It weighs down my conscience like a wet flag, unkempt and left out in the rain. My eyes stare, unblinking, at every horror, every sadness, every pain. I am only a watcher. The wall between us is high, but transparent. I dare not pass through. My fear leaves me behind.

I walk in the footsteps of a thousand years. I can hear the echoes of all who have walked before me - elation, despair, the never ending cry of millions of voices. I do not know if they will all be heard or their lives remembered. I can only listen. The space between us is filled with concrete, but resonant. I dare not climb. My fear leaves me behind.

My eyes trace the horizon of an empty sea. I can see shadows in the distance - hopeful, frightened, drowning. I do not know if they will make it to shore or find the promise of the land. I can only keep walking. The gate between us is closed, but rusted. I dare not open it. My fear leaves me behind.

I hear the solemn chant of a devout priest. I can feel the silent prayers of all who sit before him - a candle for the blessed, the sick, the dead. I do not know if their faith can sustain them or if their prayers will be answered. I can only keep hoping. There is a forest between us, but it is filled with sunlight. I dare not enter it. My fear leaves me behind.

I feel the weight of an ageless soul. I know it is lost, broken – a sloping mire of love and hate, borne from years of watching, listening, walking, hoping. I can only endure. There is a river between us, but it is filled with rocks. I dare not cross it. My fear has left me behind.