Rainy Season

There I was, looking out over the perilous lake that stretched before me. I could see my salvation in the distance — not 100 meters away. But how to get there?

My eyes scanned the horizon. My heart started to race.

There! A dry patch of land, stretching thin between to bubbling pools. Stepping slowly, I made my way through the narrow passage, only to find myself at another dead end.

But wait! The smooth, shimmering face of a nearby rock caught my gaze a meter away. Could I jump? Will I make it?

Knowing no other option, I made the leap – nearly falling as my toes hit the smooth surface.

I stopped to catch my breath. My haven was still another 90 meters away.

Another thin stretch, another broken bridge. I crisscrossed my way through the death trap. I was 60 meters away. 40.

I cursed under my breath as I backtracked 5 meters to correct a dead-end path.

20 meters. 10.

I skimmed the wall that lined the dangerous pool. My hands flat against the hot cement.

5 meters. 2.

One more leap, and I'd be free. I braced my body for failure, but allowed my mind to hope.

I bent low and soared. My feet crashed against the hard asphalt, and I stumbled forward.

Freedom! Freedom! Aretha Franklin belted out in my head.

I turned and looked at the defeated mess behind me. Overhead, the hot sun began its daily ritual of drying the puddles and mud pits. But tonight it would rain again.

And tomorrow, I'd have to face the mocking maze from my house to the pavement once more.