P is for Pot… Bygone days

As the light goes out, a sudden darkness falls over the room.

The chest of drawers, standing against the wall in front of the bed is starting to take shape as my eyes adjust to the dark.  My eyes move around the large room that houses two beds, other than the one I am in, a wardrobe and a dresser.   Lastly, I see the crack of the closet door.  An opening peering at me as content as I am peering at it.

Sitting, often too full to handle even a teaspoon more of liquid, is a white kettle type object between the bed I share with two older siblings and the closet door.

My heart thumping loudly in my ears as I anticipate my lunge to the kettle on the floor we fondly call “The Pot.”

The pressure in my lower abdomen is becoming unbearable.

With eyes closed, I raise my body in an upward position.  My two sisters lay motionless sleeping.  My hands moving swiftly down the bed to touch the footboard. I grasp the wood and swing myself over the top to land on the floor in a quiet thump.  I open my eyes, holding them firmly to the floor in my frantic search of The Pot.  Smelling only the mustiness of the area rug brings disappointment as I remember The Pot had been taken for its daily walk earlier and was not returned.

At this point, the crack in the closet door is a mere crack in the closet door.  No longer an eye peering at me.

My concerns have changed, as well as, my destination.

My feet ache from the speed at which they are moving down the stairs and out into a night where the trees are appearing like shadows all around me.  The warm breeze gently swaying each branch as if to be beckoning me to have one last dance.

In the distance of about two hundred feet I see my destination growing nearer.  As my body hits the solid wood foundation, I swing open the door of the outhouse and I am quickly relieved.

The End

Know your destination and see it in your imagination, no matter what it is, EVERYTHING is a manifestation that will occur and will always be right on time.

-MaryEvelyn