This is another short work that interests me. Loneliness and desperation for a middle-aged woman is part of the subject matter, including how the past is never forgotten after a traumatic event. Living on a farm in Wales, Lynn and Rod led a solitary life. Physically exhausted, Lynn begins to doubt her sanity with what has occurred. Deep down, she is afraid of telling Rod her troubles.

Lynn’s hesitating voice breaks as she speaks.

 Lynn:  Why will sleep not come?  The nights seems to be endless. I lay asleep, yet I was conscious of all.  The desires I see never entice me. The absence of light frightened me more than anything else. My hands became cold, unfeeling, the circulation stopping as I tried to form a fist with both hands. I knew there was something I was supposed to do to relieve the anguish. The path appeared, as if from nowhere. I could not see the buildings around me as they dimmed. My feet caught the vine that crept over the grass. I still walked, the next second, my feet, still bare, trod on sodden turf that seemed sensuous. Appearing in puddles, the viscous fluid, like the weakened juices of an unsettled jelly, appeared red and white. I knew exactly what I had to do: breathe deeply. Suddenly, sensation came to my fingers and I felt movement increasing as I clenched my right-hand. (Pauses and says nervously). My relief was short-lived: my left-hand moved of its own volition. Their faces I still see on the palms of my coarse hands. Children screaming, their mouths wide-open in terror, imploring me to aid them. . .

Lynn’s voice fades into the voice of her husband Rod who folds his newspaper and coughs.

 

Rod:  Lynn? You were miles away once more. Your tea is cold by now. I will make a fresh pot.

 

Lynn:  Did you say something?

 

Rod:  I have been speaking to you for the past few minutes and I do not believe you have heard a word I said.

 

Lynn:  I was listening, believe me. My energy is not the same.

 

Rod:  Then why did you not answer? You know these foolish thoughts of yours have to cease.

Lynn:  I was still trying to work out if they were Max’s footprints or not. He did not seem frightened, Rod. I know him and he followed me obediently from the top field. His hearing is not so good now he is aged. I know that he has not lost  his inner sense that will see things I cannot.

 

 Rod:  Lack of sleep is your problem, Lynn. This is why you are rambling.

 

Lynn:   I do not think so. Where did the footprints come from if children had not made them? I thought they were birds’ footprints at first. These were in the kitchen after I came home. You had still not arrived home from work in the other fields. I cleaned them up. Then, after I had thrown the paper towels in the bin, I could hear laughter behind me and whispering. I was not scared. Curiosity got the better of me, that’s all.

 

Rod:   It could have been voices from the television. You know how sound travels.

 

Lynn:   It was not that. The day before yesterday, I nearly forgot, Max was in the passage and he jumped up as if excited by someone who was standing beside him. I know how silly this sounds. Max next saw me and ran into the room, where he jumped onto the settee.

 

Rod:   I am intrigued. You said you believed they were birds’ footprints at first.

 

Lynn:    I saw three ridges that you usually see when you find them on soft earth in the garden. I will wash the plates up now. The children will be around in the evening.

 

Rod:   I don’t think that will be a good idea. Have you seen the little girl since?

 

 

Lynn:  Yes. I saw her in the upper field. She just had the eerie smile on her face.

 

Rod:  She must be one of the village children. Her friends were with her and you did not see them. There's your explanation.

 

Lynn:   I will not accept that, either. You have seen her on a previous occasion when you were with me.  You know how difficult the terrain is by the quarry. How did she manage to find her way up there without breaking her neck?

 

Rod:   Children will always find a way. They are adventurous. We were out all the time when we were kids. There was no staying in the house, watching television. I was out until it was dark.

 

Lynn:   I would not like her to have an accident. What if she means me harm?

 

Rod:    Oh, for goodness sake! In what way? Children are used to bumps and bruises.

 

Lynn:   I cannot explain why I just said that. Well, last Thursday I was in the upper field getting the cows in. I saw her again, Rod. She was standing in the same position. Clouds darkened towards the western side of the quarry. Max had fallen asleep. I did not want to wake him. Before I knew it, a mist came down. I was trapped in a field that I had known all my life. The girl turned, her face still indistinct, as she stood by the old stream that my father had filled in many years before. Wild flowers I smelt next as the cows became disturbed.  I could see that the girl’s hair was long and wavy.

 

Rod:   Max remained asleep while this was going on?

 

Lynn:  Yes.The girl wanted me to speak and I knew not what to say. There were rosehips by her feet. They grew as the wind carried a seed to me that burnt my left hand when I caught it.

 

 Rod:   Let me see the palm of your hand. There is some kind of bruising there, Lynn. I am trying to make sense of what you are telling me, but I do not know how to help you.

 

Lynn:  How do you think I feel? My mind does not belong to me on times. I will not tell you everything because of the look you give me because it sounds so bloody ridiculous.

 

Rod:  That is a little unfair. I will walk with you the next time you go up to the fields.

 

Lynn:  How could she appear when I did not hear her footsteps? Why is Max submissive when he should be sensing something untoward is happening?

 

Rod:  I have no idea.

 

Lynn:    The little girl represents something. I am certain of that. I thought she reminded me of myself when I was a child. I was shy and would not show my face to anyone if they chatted to me.

 

Rod:   You never told me that before.

 

Lynn:   I have not told you many things about my childhood. The girl definitely appeared in different areas of the field. I found the places and they resemble circles. A circle within a circle.  If I stood on a different section of the field from now until the weekend, she would appear in a different guise to me. I am not particularly religious and I should have believed as my mother did.

 

Rod:  Why do you say that?

Lynn:   Because the sun dances in the sky whenever she appears. All my anxieties disappear when I see the child. There is no burning in my back and stomach. I am so confident that I want it to last. I spoke with Meredith on the telephone the other day and I told him all of what has been happening.

 

 Rod:    What did Meredith the magnificent say?

 

Lynn:   He did not disbelieve me when he had heard the full story. My brother, when he is not drinking, is intelligent enough to understand. He is careful not to let his parishioners know of his habit; it his theological reckoning that never dissuades me from discovering the truth. “The mysteries are still with us,” he would say. Meredith still believes that the world emanated from God’s mind. Mind before matter. Meredith believes the girl is a fragment from another’s imagination. The land is sensitive to her pain and will replay it in another’s mind if they are sensitive, Rod.

Rod:    Did he say that she was dead?

 

Lynn:   Yes.

 

Rod:    That is a strange allegory.

 

Lynn:    I do not see it like that. The death of any child is never forgotten. There is an echo of remembrance for those who can see and hear these voices, as Meredith told me. What if she is persuading me that there is something afterwards when we die, Rod. I have my beliefs, as do you. It could be because I am at my wits’ end and this is why the child appears. My mother never spoke of death because she was afraid. She never wanted children because she feared the pain of childbirth. I never realized this until I was married. Jen, my elder sister, who died of measles, told me that there was a little girl who lived in the stables and that she was the only one who could see her. (Weak laugh). She used to take her egg sandwiches. They were Jen’s favourites. Jen said that the girl told her she would never see her face because she was asleep in this world. The meeting would only take place when Jen was with the angels. All little girls, the strange girl told her, were just shadows that could not be reunited with their little sisters because they could not dream like the children of old.

Rod:  Why have you not spoken of this until now? I would have calmed your fears, Lynn. You used to tell me everything.

 

Lynn:  You would have thought me a fool if I had told you. I start to speak and the words are never the same.  I did not remember until everything that had occurred over the past few weeks. Are we trapped here, suffering, until we die? Is this what the child is trying to tell me? I would like an answer. Jen’s spirit is pure and I know she can hear this conversation.

 

Rod:  Sometimes, there are no answers and it is wise to leave things be.

 

Lynn:    Jen understood because she was a child. She never experienced the cynicism of being an adult. A child’s eye is what sees the truth. Oh, my poor, poor sister. I never forgave my parents for not letting me see her when she lay in the parlour. The old farm was never the same afterwards. This is why I wanted  the children to be close. They have their families, but I still worry about them

 

 Rod:  Wipe the tears from your eyes. I will stay with you if you try to sleep. I will sit in the old chair.

 

 Lynn:   I cannot do that. I am afraid of what I will see if I sleep too deeply. This curiosity is no good for me. I have to see things differently, Rod. If I supress all that has occurred, it will make matters worse. What have I learnt from this?

Rod:      A strange experience could be defining, Lynn. You will survive this. Most people get over their problems.

Lynn: (Softly)  That is the reason why I cannot sleep at night.

 

 Lynn’s voice slowly fades out.

 

 (The End)