Amidst a tranquil ripple, she swam back and forth uniting herself between the body of water and her body of thoughts. It was almost sunset & for only a while longer she stayed and played as if there was nowhere else to be. She watched the sun fall and the moon take over; so quickly did the change occur that she felt herself blink and the entire lake was caught in darkness. It wasn’t a darkness to be scared of, in fact she was at peace. Quietly she made her way back to the dock, picked up her towel that was patiently waiting for her and tiptoed past the fireflies that were now becoming the moon’s partner in light.
Suddenly, she took notice to her right — a woman, just like her, was walking up her dock as well. This woman seemed dark and heavy. There was no lightness to her steps, no peace to her shadows. It seemed as if this woman was radiating an incredibly despairing tone to her movements. It was as if the house she was bound to was a mixture of extreme pain and euphoria. For a moment in time the two women stared at each other & the dark woman conveyed with her eyes what her present was like.
Inside the dark house was a man and two children. Both children were older, 8 and 10. The man was sitting on a chair with his laptop resting on cushions. This man was strong, not in the attributes of physical strength but strong that his emotional hold on this woman was abundant. She was his & his alone yet he was not hers. In a flash of seconds this man loved her extremely and not at all; and for better or worse this was the life the dark woman had chosen. However shaded things became, the dark woman would think of the light that became of them every once in a while and that hopeful thought brought her to another day of her life.
After the exchange of glances lasted over a minute, the two women meekly smiled towards one another and the dark woman disappeared into her home. As the woman with the towel kept lightly treading onto her house she noticed to her left another woman. This woman was not as dark as the one on the right but more grey. She was less burdensome than the other woman but there was still little colour to her. The two women exchanged yet again a glance towards one another and the woman with the towel saw into the grey woman.
Grey was the colour that surrounded the house on the left. Grey were the walls inside. A husband, sitting on the couch by the television and two unsupervised children running around aimlessly with no care in the world. The woman in grey, cooking in the kitchen, mumbles to her husband and asks a question to which no response is met. She asks again. He answers without taking his eyes off the television with one word, “sure,” and the grey woman peeks her head back into the kitchen and continues on. There is a sense of settlement that flows freely through the house. Neither too happy, nor too sad, but just enough so that everything works.
The women nod to one another with their lips slightly curled and the grey woman rushes into her home leaving the woman with towel to continue her walk on the dock.
It seems long, this journey back from the water to the house, the toweled woman ponders. She stares at her bare feet and watches the water drip onto the dock. Traces of her now begin to evaporate from the water to where she is. She slowly looks forward & for the first time today she notices how glowing and white her house is. A flood of thoughts begin to overtake her & she recalls packing for the weekend. Her son asking where his swimming trunks are, her younger daughter with a tiara on her head running around. She asks them firmly to get ready because they are going to leave any minute for the cottage. The son then takes the sister’s hand as they walk towards their rooms to finish packing. She goes up the stairs in search for her husband and calls for him. There is no reply. She briefly scans the room and just as she’s about to walk out he comes from a hidden shadow with a glass of wine in his hand. They stare at each other and smile.
“for you, just before we head out. I thought we could hang out for a bit,” he says to her.
The woman in the towel reconvenes her thoughts & and begins skipping to the bright white house. It’s evening as she makes her way inside. The windows are steaming and the children are individually playing in the main room. The television is shut off and there is jazz music blaring from the kitchen. The woman in the towel, makes her way up the stairs to the master bedroom, quickly ties her hair up and throws on an oversized tshirt with some house shorts. She trots down the stairs and notices on the wooden table a glass of red has been poured and is awaiting her hand. She scoops up the glass, walks into the kitchen to find her husband’s back towards her as he carefully tosses a fillet of fish. Without looking back at her he asks,
“do you want to eat outside?”
“ya, it’s nice out. I’ll let thing one and thing two know.”
He glances back at her as she is about to grab the children and they share a look and a smile.
“Love you,” he says.
“love,” she replies as she takes a sip out of her glass and disappears into the other room.
*
Any way I look at it and any way I imagine it, the choice is always going to be you.
