The Crow that Heralded the Dawn

[ferdaboy 3472]

 

 

Upon its arrival, it was understood that the dinghy only came for those that had unraveled themselves too far to turn back. 

 

It came for the intruder, drifting from the waters to the shore. The boat was composed of no natural materials, as the intruder understood it, but rather of a reflective surface that caught light from the stars above and reflected its light onto the water. The intruder stood at the edge of the shore, catching glimpses of himself ripple across the reflective surface of the boat.

 

The mirror-like surface of the boat was warm to the touch, as if it had sat in the sun for hours, yet when the intruder looked up, he saw only the blue-greyish hues of a sunless sky. He stepped into the boat, and grabbed hold of the oars, careful as to not tip the measly boat over. With a single push of the oars, he began drifting away from the shore. The current took him immediately, guiding him into the horizon.

 

The intruder rowed until time became meaningless, until the ache in his arms was the only rhythm, the only measure he could rely on. The sky above never seemed to change, keeping its melancholic hues throughout his journey, only the odd ray of light seeping through and reflecting from the boat’s surface.

 

Yet, as he rowed, the mirrored-surfaces of the boat grew crowded. These surfaces shimmered with movement, no longer reflections but windows, then they were doors. Faces flickered before him, his children, old and gaunt, eyes tired from waiting. His son, calling him from a garden he never wished to explore. His wife, silent at a feast hall long abandoned. 

 

The boat shook as these reflections leaned closer, men he might have been. One spoke apologies to a daughter that no longer believed in him, the other held a child with steady hands and laughter in his voice. Visions of what he could of been, what he should of been, and what he had been came to him. Yet the worst of them all, didn’t speak at all, and only stared at him with eyes devoid of love, sunken with the ache of shame.

 

They assaulted his mind, his emotions. The grief of it all nearly paralyzed him, for he understood and lived through all of the visions that came across the reflective-surface of the boat. His breathing intensified and he felt his stomach turning, wrenching himself away from the stares to face the water.

 

Yet the intruder found no respite in the water. There, he saw what pained him more than the other visions. There, he found only his reflection, as mundane as any other. He saw only what was bound to repeat itself. His face burned with the shame of what he had been, of what he knew he was bound to be once more. 

 

Without warning, the sky flared with light. As he looked above, the sun tore through the sky. It descended, roaring silently with perfect, blinding heat. As it came to him, the visions around him began to shatter. In that moment he felt not punishment, not forgiveness, but relief. 

 

He reached for it with a trembling hand, arm stretched as if to touch the descending star itself. As his fingers brushed its surface, his mind began to swell with promises of a second chance. He knew that if he could just grasp it, even for a moment, that he could just begin anew.