Evolution of A Soul: Continued

By: Diane Hypolite

The visions came slowly like thickened molasses pouring slowly into sight and then as clear water will dispel the murk of a cloudy pond, they sharpened into clearer focus.

A tiny newborn was hud- dled into a box, it’s tiny head lost in shadows as it cried the harsh, breaking sobs of the truly heartbroken. Above its head was a faded sign saying ‘Orphanage’, and down the street footsteps quickly faded into non-existence.

Then the scene was gone, replaced by the squalor of a broken down trailer. Over blaring, country music, glass shattered, and a woman hit the wall uncon- scious and broken. Her hus- band stood over her, swaying as alcohol hazed his vision into red, a bat clutched tightly in his fist. Before the scene whirled away into nothing- ness the sickening sound of wood crunching bone was heard.

Then suddenly there was

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a man sitting alone at an office desk, bare except for the pink slip in front of him. His mind was lost in thoughts of failure and exhaustion. His wife had left, his kids went with her, his friends had dis- appeared, his house was seized, and his car was taken. All was gone except for one. Slowly he opened the second drawer of his desk and pulled out a shiny, unused pistol. Handed down the generations in his family. He remembered the day his father gave it to him. “...for when you realize what a piece of shit you are, boy.” The office melted away into the azure sky of pretty summer’s day. A playground buzzed with the activity of children who _ laughed, screaming out their fierce enjoyment of youth. Only, one child sat alone in the mid- dle of the playground. His loneliness was an ocean pulsing that pushed all the other children out to the outer banks of the playground. They were unified in their semi-conscious desire to

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ignore him. The little boy sat on the swings with his pos- ture half-turned as he tried to hide the scarred half of his face.

The images flew thick and fast, until there were no more and | was left on the ground a.sobbing, heaving mess. | retched out disgust, disillusionment, and the pain of life. | retched until | was nothing but an empty husk, and then devoid of energy, | lay unmoving. In the corner of my eye, the fire still flick- ered and | cursed myself that | let myself be. manipulated, that | let the fire hold such sway over me. If it were not for those flames and my own damnable curiosity, | would not be raw and bleeding inside. | resolved then and there that | would leave that clearing and find my way back to where | came from. My memory was still gone, but it was enough to reason that to go back down the road which brought me to this clearing might be a good place to start.

It was a long and painful

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process to bring myself to my feet but | managed, and had even taken a step when sud- denly the fire gave a great roar behind me. | stood still, and slowly looked back over my shoulder. What | saw gave was a great shock and | fell to my knees before it. A tiger stood there, tail lashing, as it calmly contemplated me. And it’s eyes (those were the strangest of all) were not eyes at all but pools of dark- ness. A closer look told me that in the depths of those black orbs flames flickered, and | knelt, entranced within them.

A voice, unbidden said in my mind, ‘a soul has walked the length of the fire and has been tried. It has felt the caress of the flames and the scorch of the ashes and has been reborn. The fire has molds all into perfect symme- try of light and of darkness. Now, let the heavens witness this, the newest of the bap- tized’.

Suddenly | was the tiger, and | was seeing a disheveled creature through i's eyes, pale and shaken. Pity for this inane creature welled up within my soul but ! could not focus long on its suffering, for the night was alive with anticipation and the heavens gazed down on me with expectant eyes. Around me the forest pulsed with life and the desire to enter and begin the hunt was strong. But first | stopped and stared

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at the wraith and gave a roar of welcome, for | recognized a future equal. Then | was gone, through the forest with the night in my veins and the taste of victory on my tongue.

So ended this strangest of all dreams and | woke up shaken and slightly nau- seous. For the taste of fear was in my mouth and | did not know exactly why. | lay the whole night long in my bed, awake and thoughtful. The more | contemplated the mat- ter, the more | began to think of it not as a dream but as an omen, sent for some higher purpose. | felt inside myself that | was changed in some fundamental way, unseen to all except the most naked of emotions. Comprehension of such a vision alluded me but in the morning while involved in the daily ablutions | discov- ered a mark upon my body, unknown to me before. It was high on my right hip. First inspection yielded only a blob, but as | squinted closer | made out the figure of what could be a tiger, tail lashing at the air.

So now | end my story, still not knowing what to make of my story. Whether it was a dream or something more, who can know? It stands to you, the reader, to make of it what you will. Maybe, if there lives some person who can understand the oddity of such a vision, there is hope yet for myself.