Rocks in the Riverbed

Fiction By Ariel // 3/7/2009

Riding through the dark; running from the grief and suffering of live; hiding from the hurt that it brought, the girl pushed her horse forward, never stopping, never looking back. She couldn’t go back, she couldn’t face the truth! The tears streamed down her face; the horse’s pace never slackened. “Away! Away!” his hooves seemed to say.
The frosty air forced itself down the girl’s throat, burning all the way down to the depths of her soul with its icy coldness. Her gasps turned to sobs and her grip on the reins started to slacken, but the horse never stopped running. She buried her face in his long mane and clung there, sobbing; unaware of were the horse was running or when he would stop. The horse’s motion gradually began to get gentler until he finally slowed to a stop.
The horse lowered his head to graze upon the tender grass. The girl raised herself slowly, looking about with a tear-stained face. A fresh wave of sadness broke over her like waves of icy ocean water at the sight of were they had stopped. This is were it all began, this is were the “feeling grew into a hope…”*. She crumpled into the grass, but the sobs were no longer as painful; now they felt refreshing, as if they were washing and restoring the soul somehow. The sobs gently subsided and a feeling of peace stole over the girl as she lay there on the grass, staring up at the stars and remembering. Sleep slowly overcame her tired body and she drifted off.
The girl awoke just when the sun was peaking over the tops of the trees. The delicate spider webs in the tall grass looked like ropes of diamonds with the sun reflecting off them. The girl rose slowly, the unchecked tears streaming from her eyes the night before had been checked and replaced with a soft yet mournful look. The sorrow was still there, but it was no longer like a searing knife cutting into her heart. A beam of light broke over her face, warming it with its soft rays. Like a distant song of hope, the birds began sweetly chirping and chattering in the surrounding trees. The girl got up and quietly walked to a nearby stream.
After she had refreshed herself with its coolness, she sat, watching its clear water flow away beyond the rock were she sat.
“The stream is like life: we think we are flowing in just the way we want until we reach a bend in our riverbed. We have to follow the path laid out before us by God, no matter what. We begin as a mountain stream, clear and pure, but then we flow down into a lake, filled with all kinds of things that dirty and pollute us. We begin to grow lazy and stagnate, always sitting in the same place, comfortable with our surroundings. Then God opens the flood-gates and we are faced with new obstacles in our life; new rocks in our riverbed. If we trust Him, we will always be able to get around them to continue down the riverbed of life.”
The girl got up and looked out across the landscape. She gently wiped a single tear that lay glittering on her cheek. She turned, took a deep breath, ready to face the rocks in her riverbed; ready to trust; ready to face her sorrows and begin again.
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*“The Call”--Regina Spektor (Prince Caspian) This is much more fun to read if you read it while listening to this song. I was writing this while I was listening it (obviously)!

Comments

Beautiful! I love the

Beautiful!
I love the descriptions in this.

Sarah | Sun, 03/08/2009

"Sometimes even to live is courage."
-Seneca

Blogging away!
busyscribbler.wordpress.com

Lovely, A darling, just

Lovely, A darling, just lovely. Now, what made you think of this?

"It's not who you are underneath, but what you do that defines you." from Batman Begins

The Brit | Sun, 03/08/2009

Thank you Sarah! Brit-What

Thank you Sarah!

Brit-What made me think of this? Well, it was a dark, windy night; I was listening to the PC soundtrack; I was going to write a tragic poem about someone dying, but I decided to ditch that idea and then this just started to almost write itself.
Does it seem to make sense to you guys? I mean, was I able to communicate the moral of the story to you?
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"It's King Edmund, actually. Just King though. Peter's the High King. I know, it's confusing."--Edmund Pevensie

Ariel | Sun, 03/08/2009

*****************************************
"To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme. No great and enduring volume can ever be written on the flea, though many there be that have tried it." -- Herman Melville

Very clearly. You did a good

Very clearly. You did a good job with word selection. I would give you a pat on the head if not for the miles that lie between you're head and my hand.

"It's not who you are underneath, but what you do that defines you." from Batman Begins

The Brit | Sun, 03/08/2009

Ahh! Spiders!!!! Ariel! ps.

Ahh! Spiders!!!! Ariel!
ps. Nice story.

I am Nate-Dude | Mon, 03/09/2009

Nate-Dude

Lovely, your choice of words

Lovely, your choice of words was excellent. I'm going to go and search that song now.....

~Erin~

"So, I'm like the Jonas Brothers' evil stepbrother? Okay." -Adam Lambert on People Say He Looks Like Joe Jonas

"Perhaps he's that Neevil! Tally-ho! Tantivy! Cut him off! Round him up! Keep it up! Hurrah!" Talking Animals in Magician's Nephew

E | Mon, 05/18/2009

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

OOoooo!!!! Good song

OOoooo!!!! Good song too.

~Erin~

"So, I'm like the Jonas Brothers' evil stepbrother? Okay." -Adam Lambert on People Say He Looks Like Joe Jonas

"Perhaps he's that Neevil! Tally-ho! Tantivy! Cut him off! Round him up! Keep it up! Hurrah!" Talking Animals in Magician's Nephew

E | Mon, 05/18/2009

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond