Periodically, I write to a daily prompt found at thewritingreader.com. This is one of those. I hope it brightens your day as much as the experience brightened Gwendolyn Mathers'.
I invite your comments at: http://www.thewritingreader.com/blog/2016/05/03/prompt-1714-falls-the-shadow/
Gwendolyn Mathers let her body slide down the tiled wall of her oversized shower. Warm water cascaded over her body from the rain showerhead her husband had insisted be a part of the nearly twenty square-foot enclosure.
She stared, unseeing, at the array of side shower jets that wrapped around her at varying heights. Those, too, had been essential parts of the luxury shower system advertised as “a relaxing, refreshing refuge for couples.”
What it had become was a reminder of happier times.
She knew she wasn’t depressed. I am exhausted. I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.
The ping of the timer she’d set rallied her mental energy. She stood, pressed the button on the foaming soap dispenser, and lathered up. She knew that she’d taken too long to still wash and condition her hair.
She sighed.
Removing the hand-held showerhead from its mooring, she rinsed her body. One turn of the master water valve stemmed the flow of hot liquid. She pushed the all-glass shower door open with her hip and stepped out onto the memory foam bathmat. After drying her body and partially drying her hair, she wound her shoulder-length hair into around her head and wrapped a towel around it.
“You’ve got the sultry middle-east look down this morning,” she told her reflection in the mirror. Even though she knew there was no one else in the house, she pulled a short cotton robe on before she opened the door to the bedroom.
After dressing and drying her hair, she headed to the stairs. A clear line of darkness split the staircase in half midway between the top landing and the bottom step.
Funny, she thought, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before. I didn’t think there was enough sun in this stairwell to cast a shadow this time of the morning.
She took a deep breath and stepped off the landing.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
As her foot contacted the seventh step, she realized she’d been subconsciously counting the steps. She looked down. Brilliant sunlight bathed her foot in glorious gold hues.
“It’s dazzling!” She said aloud.
Embarrassed by her vocalization, she took the next two steps as fast as she could.
Something compelled her to stop.
What’s going on here? I feel… Why I feel better! Better than in a long time.
She looked down. The line between sunlight and shadow now cut her mid-thigh. She turned and looked back up the stairs.
I don’t get this? It’s pitch black up there.
She shivered.
She pranced down the remaining steps. By the time she reached the hardwood that covered the entire first floor of her home, she was humming.
The phone rang.
She skipped to the kitchen counter and snatched her smartphone from its charging cradle.
“This is Gwen!”
“Mrs. Mathers?”
“None other.”
“Um, of course. This is Nurse Doring.”
“Ah, yes. You’re one of Hank’s nurses. How are you?”
“Um, why, I-I’m fine,” the nurse stammered. What’s up with Gwendolyn? She’s never this perky.
“And, Hank?”
“That’s what I called about.”
“Okay. I’m ready for your news.”
“You’ll want to come down as quickly as you can,” Nurse Doring instructed. “Your husband’s shown signs of emerging from the coma. Very promising signs.”
“Oh, thank you! Thank you! I’ll be right there!”
Gwen snatched up her car keys with one hand and punched the garage door opener with the other. She shoved a coffee pod into the machine, slapped the lid closed, stuck her insulated mug under the spout, and started the brew cycle.
She hummed as she pulled two granola bars from their box in the pantry. By the time she pushed open the door to the garage with her hip, she was ready to take on the world.
She never could explain why she turned and look back at the staircase. But when she did, she saw that the sun illuminated the entire length.
That’s not possible. There’s no way the sun moved that far in that short of time.
Without a second thought, she let the door close behind her. It didn’t matter if the shadows returned.
I’m spending today, which is going to be a fantastic day, thank you very much, between the shadow-times.
