The Now, The Next

I could see it on the horizon; the horizon of life where the now fell beneath the next and suddenly became history.

I waited for the feeling to pass, but knew that it would not. I knew that when next I blinked my eyes the perfect moment would be used up and expired like a worn out credit card.

The perfect moment, ripe, ready to be used to its fullest potential was offered as a dialogue within. Two roads waited; two paths beckoned; enlightenment tempted.

I hesitated, and in the faltering, knew that I had lost. The only choice left was to seize the moment by the tail and let it circle me around, crazy and tumultuous, until it dropped me into a new moment, perched on the horizon; the horizon of life where the now fell beneath the next and suddenly became history.

The depressor plunged; the tube crimsoned; the world bolted in moving color like a swarm of mad-crazy jesters knocking down my door. The arrow sharp, pierced the flesh pliant. The vessel widened, swallowing shots of liquid escape in no-remorse-gimme-more-I can-take-it gulps.

I floated for a while, then left the scene completely. They said my body remained.

When twilight fell, I shuddered through shame and fixed my gaze on the western coast. The sun shimmied the very water in its dusky death throes. My soul found its rhythm and then exceeded it. I forced myself to take heart. I had no alternative, other than attrition, and I wasn't ready for that.

I could see it on the horizon; the horizon of life where the now fell beneath the next and suddenly became history.

Seconds passed.

Lungs breathed.

Clocks ticked.

Circles joined.

Arrows pierced.

Time repeated.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Still, I could always see it on the horizon, just out of reach, where the now fell beneath the next and suddenly became history.

The perfect moment of salvation.