Pure Slush

flash ... without the wank

Surfing the Storm

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by Sarah Collie       The Sincerest Form of Flattery  > 

 

I feel his agitation. His mind skipping back and forth like a TV remote being clicked randomly by an unseen hand. Memories of yesterday mix with memories from years past with no common thread between. He can’t switch it off, can’t control it and can’t plan where it will take him next. He is too tired, has done too much today even though I tried to tell him to rest. He is stubborn and won’t accept that he can’t do everything he wants to. 

I feel his frustration, a warning pulse of emotion that flows from him in waves and I can feel in my skin, my heart. No answer I give will calm him or settle him to sleep. So I jump with him from topic to topic, surfing the waves of his mind as the storm builds.

The frustration changes now, his rage swirls around me. He is angry that his mind is out of his command, that he cannot switch it off to rest or control where it takes him next, he is aware that this is not normal, not right but he doesn’t know what to do about it. I let the angry words wash over me in waves, I cannot follow him here or it will make things worse. My stomach tightens and the bile begins to rise, the tension making me feel sick. I have to remain calm, I won’t allow my words to become angry like his, to wound like his do or the storm will become so much worse than it already is. I resist the push and pull of his anger as it rushes around me, trying to entice me to give in and join him, to leap headlong into the flow regardless of consequences.

As quickly as it comes the anger vanishes, exhaustion rises up from the deep to claim him, too much emotion drains him and his mind finally submits, slipping quickly into slumber. He sleeps deeply, for now at least. Exhausted from the short storm I follow him into oblivion, curling my arms around him 
to protect him from dark dreams.

 

published 9 January 2013