Another short story for y'all. This one was required to be a journey through nature, so this is what I came up with.

The Vessel

The sunshine beat down upon her cheek in melancholy rays, trying to bring her reclined body to life. Vacant eyes gazed upon the endless sky, a deep depression set deeper than the black of her pupils. The hopelessness inside was all-consuming, and it left the woman a shell of what she once was.

She was a vessel, detached and empty.

Ants crawled on her arms, following each other in familiar lines. They did not stray from the path the previous ant had lead before them, nor did the next, or the next. Rushing to reach a source of food, they all trusted each other wholeheartedly. If one were to differ from the invisible track, than the others would blindly follow. It didn't matter whether or not this would put them in danger. They were a colony, and each of the workers thrived in perfect balance to reach a common goal. Not a single insect was left without purpose.

The woman could not recall the last time she had truly felt a sense of purpose or belonging.

Blades of grass tickled her skin, holding her in an embrace that was unlike that of the people the woman had come to know. It was unconditional, and the earth below would not recoil at her touch. Although, she knew that the grass would dry and the ground would crack beneath the unrelenting heat of the sun and this left her feeling mournful.

The sun would never change its pattern for the dying grass. The sun would rise, then the sun would set to reveal the glowing, ominous moon. The two celestial bodies were like a colony of their own, each sharing the workload of watching the woman in the field. Though it was in the darkness of the night that desire lied both for the grass, and for the woman. It held hope, like an unspoken promise that tomorrow would be better, and that the sun would not come.

Yet the sun would rise, and then set. Rise, set.

It was a cosmic certainty.

The sun would not stop its unrelenting onslaught upon the grass, and it would not stop to allow the woman to pause, and simply be. Time would always pass her by in a whirlwind of missed opportunities and disappointment.

It too was a cosmic certainty.

The wind changed, and dark clouds gathered. Stray hairs formed into tendrils that flew around her face. The field then smelled of something sad and it hung in the air, lining her lungs like a thick ash. She called out, the wind drawing the words from her throat and carrying them into the sky, whispering to the obscured sun to leave, and never return.

And then the sky seemed to crack right open, releasing a torrent of rain. It wet every inch of the woman's body, soaking her clothes and hair. Droplets landed on her face and glided down her chin like a train on a railway, forming telltale lines that left an icy chill. The frigid water created a deep ache that seeped into her bones, matching that of her heart. It clawed at her mind, reaching deep within her throbbing skull, penetrating her deepest thoughts to leave them clear as day.

She began to quake from the freezing cold.

There was something cleansing about the gale, and it seemed to slowly wash away the layers of anger and hate that plagued the woman's soul. The insecurity, the rejection and the bitter madness were watered down, and for a moment, it seemed that they were palatable. Layer after layer, droplet after droplet, the woman felt herself became anew.

The wind and rain blended together in harmony, the two destructive forces combining to create a sorrow melody. It kissed the tips of the trees and the blades of grass, drowning them in its song. The woman longed to ride the tune, singing like a merry bird.

It was then that the woman noticed the ants, still travelling along her arms through the tempest. They continued their routine, unwavering in their path. Antenna twitching, little legs scurrying across the ground, determined to continue the sequence. The woman sat upright, placing a solitary finger in their path and destroying the journey with ease.

And like that the cycle was broken.

The woman bore a bittersweet smile, looking to the setting sun with a sense of promise.

~

I hope you guys enjoyed!