As I completed the last of a series of gentle strokes upon the forehead of the man that lay still on my kitchen table, I felt the first drift towards home, the peacefulness and serenity quickly replaced by the most powerful feeling of love, as usual it brought tears.

Apart from the rapid eye movement, his breathing barely detectable, the body beneath my hands lay quiet. He was gone now, off somewhere peaceful.

Somewhat different to the grey toned coughing mess that had struggled to climb the 5 steps to my kitchen door only minutes before.

The body stalled, suspended free of all fear, as I went about what now felt like an ancient ritual. I was home again.

Lost in the moment in my kitchen as several beings of light drifted through to join and guide me, I closed my eyes and slowly, deeply, breathed in the universe.

Energy flowed through my body as I placed the palms of my hands on his chest, a flow of light wafting above my hands, different from the light in the rest of the kitchen, as I moved my hands slowly above his torso the light flowed through my outstretched fingers drifting along and rising slightly above them.

I again placed my hands on his chest marveling at the effects the light played on his blue shirt. When I lifted my hands again I momentarily saw the black hand beneath mine.

It was time for me to move to the end of the table, where I placed the palms of my hands on the soles of his feet. “Concentrate on the dark green strokes of the bamboo” a familiar voice gently spoke.

Satisfied that I was being guided I let my mind drift to the bamboos that grew around my back garden and to the beautiful markings, perfect as if made by a bored eccentric artist.

I stayed that way for what seemed like moments, but was to be at least fifteen minutes, wrapped in the most powerful yet simplest pure love. I was conscious of the flow of energy from the soles of my bare feet through my body and out of the palms of my hands as they held his feet.

Occasionally I was to return to his side and place one hand on his heart and the other along his right forearm, being careful never to walk around the table so as not to walk along his left side.

My right ear crackled, I was alone again with him, I lightly stroked his forehead and softly called his name.

How did you go? I asked.

Great I feel like I can run a marathon, he gratefully said. “Do you like my shirt I wore it especially for you.”

Yes I replied pleased that he was now pink and looking extremely revived. I had commenced worried that he was so ill he may possibly chose to leave me, how could I explain a neatly clothed man at peace on my kitchen table.


Karry Smith

Perth, Australia

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 3

Artist's Description

This was my short story submission for the “In the Moment” Challenge.

Artwork Comments

  • Agusia
  • Howie56
  • NellieAustin
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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