The Lake

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is story about a young girl who comes to a kind of epiphany about life, as she sits by a lake. I wrote it a while ago, and as I wrote, the words poured out of me like a stream. It was a parallel realisation, both Catherine (the character) and I were experiencing the same thing.

It is only a short story, the shortest of all, but it has more to say than others.

Submitted: December 25, 2006

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Submitted: December 25, 2006



The Lake


In the small town of Bellbery, just out of the Hilltop County, there lived a very silly girl. Dorothy James she was called and she was renowned for her immense foolishness. She was well meaning, though was always followed by a trail of chaos. The township of Bellbery was a delightful place, where in the summer children played in the daisy-kissed meadows and in the winter resided in their small, cosy cottages.

All except one.

Miss Dotty James, the town fool, would frolic in the plains when a blizzard was nigh and then mysteriously hibernate when the sun was shining. A very silly girl indeed.


Yet as she sat by the lakeside and watched her poor doomed friend Dotty chase despairingly after the ducks, it occurred to Catherine that she might be wrong. A rarity, perhaps, though all the same a possibility. Despite having read many a book and studied many a person, Catherine could have misjudged dear Dotty and her seemingly stupid ways. Catherine gazed upon the still silver lake and searched at her heels for a suitable flat rock.

In that moment she conceived a theory that life is just like a lake, stretching from the far corner of birth and the beginning, to the round simple bank of death, yet all the while being an enigmatic, deep pool covered by one changing surface. Maybe life was more enjoyable, or rather less problematic, when the surface of the lake was still and quiet, as opposed to when a large rock is thrown into the pond, disturbing the serenity. Catherine pondered her new hypothesis as she sat beside the tall, quivering reeds. At length she reached the conclusion that she was not in the mood for serious theorising about life and would rather stop being such an over-analytical twit. One can put to much strain upon the mind by excessive thinking about pretentious ideas concerning....well, nothing!

In her utter frustration, Catherine launched the best stone she could find directly across the lake, watching as it danced upon the silver stage. As she witnessed the aftermath of her destructive behaviour, Catherine returned to her theory. Watching the ripples swiftly meet their doom upon the gravel bank, she concluded that life was better when circumstances created ripples upon the lake. Nothing else could change the lake so dramatically in an instant; leaving a distinct, though invisible, impression behind. Yes, Catherine thought adamantly to herself, life is much better when the unpredictable occurs and causes, or rather demands the person to prosper. One can only develop through individual experience, when all of their strength must be mustered to succeed. You must give part of yourself away to gain a more refined wisdom. She was really very proud of her own insight!



© Copyright 2018 Bonnie Jackson. All rights reserved.

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