Featured Review on this writing by Jeff Bezaire

Empath

Reads: 136  | Likes: 5  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 7

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: House Of Ten Thousand Exotic Rooms
Written for a challenge using the 'Mystical Moments' oracle cards.
cover credit: nathan-dumlao-367165-unsplash

Submitted: January 21, 2019

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 21, 2019

A A A

A A A


Empath

You could say it was one of his greatest strengths; his sensitivity to his environment. Any changes, good or bad, he would sense them immediately. The sunshine on his face could fill him with a sense of warmth and ease, but equally, if it was too strong or prolonged, it could make him feel dread.

His empathy was such that he felt connected to the natural world around him. He could sense all of its pleasures, and he could suffer all of its pains.

The fire, when it took hold, was devastating. All the forest for miles around was eaten by the flames. He heard the screams of the trapped animals, birds, insects. He felt their pain as they were consumed by the fire, burned alive.

The trees dried out and burned from the bottom up, or from the outside in. He could hear the cries from the oak, the ash, the pine, the cedar. And he could not help but weep as his entire world turned to ash, to dust, and drew him away from reality to a world of suffering.

How long he dwelt inside the greyness of a burned and ravaged world he could not say, but slowly he had to move on. First he needed to be able to see the sun for what it was rather than a threat. He had to be able to feel heat without allowing the agony of consuming flames to grasp him, to take hold. And finally he needed to be able to look at a tiny flame, flickering from a candle without letting his mind turn it in to one roaring conflagration.

He had to find himself again, to separate his own identity from that of the world around him. He could still empathise; in fact, it would be impossible for him not to. But he could not afford to live through all the suffering, for every day it was taking place to some extent, somewhere near to him.

It was a long, slow process, but every day his strength grew by tiny amounts. He could breathe deep, take some small hesitant steps out in to the open air where nature was waiting to surround him.

She was gentle though, nature, sensing that he needed time to become strong enough to cope with the environment. She understood that his sense of self needed to grow before he would be confident enough again to really venture out in to the world once more.

Nature fed him in tiny doses, those sensations that he had once thrived on. For although mankind likes to separate the two Nature is the queen of nurturing, allowing things to find their own level and to thrive or not.

It took many months for him to rediscover his true self, to let the innocence of natural experiences flow through him once more. Then one day he found himself chasing a butterfly, not with his legs and feet, but with his eyes and mind. He followed it from flower to flower, from shrub to shrub, and finally watched it take to the air and fly. At that moment, his metamorphosis was complete and he once again found himself open to all of the wonders of the natural world.


© Copyright 2019 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

More Flash Fiction Short Stories