End of the Season

The man at the front of the room told them to close their eyes, sit up straight and follow their breath. Deer had no idea what to do, so she waited until the room quieted and then tried to match the rhythms of inhalations and exhalations around her.

After seventeen in and outs, the man spoke, but Deer couldn’t be sure he still stood in front of them. His low, rumbling voice said to imagine their lives as walking a path meandering through the wood and to remember their breathing.

Deer crunched through the snow under her feet. Squinted as the sun reflected off its surface. Saw her breath come out in clouds. Heard the bare branches scrape against each other when the wind rose. Smelled the crisp nothing smell of winter. Felt her cheeks redden.

A mile or two in, the voice from everywhere said to stop walking, to see they were coming up to an intersection, the path they walked would soon split in two. It said to pause, to look left, right, up and down. Then it said to turn around and study the path they just came from.

Deer looked back and saw only unbroken snow.

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2 thoughts on “End of the Season

  1. A great spiritual experience. She’s left no footprints! Because she’s not made her mark in her life? Or she’s lived carefully, broken no blades of grass, trod on no ants. Or, what, there is no, should be no, explanation. Something to mull over. I really enjoyed this.
    “The voice from everywhere”! So in keeping with the piece.

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