Transition
Transition summer stories
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honeythighs
honeythighs i believe.
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
you are reborn.

Transition

I. SPRING: THE GENESIS

You awake between the scented yellow flowers. There is dew in your hair, on your skin, in the air. As the earth blooms, you are reborn.

II. SUMMER: YOUR PROGRESSION

You step away from underneath the trees to feel the glorious sun on your face, at first a warm film on your skin before it starts to burn.

There is dirt underneath your fingernails, and sweat sticks the cotton of your shirt to your back.

III. FALL: SWEET CONTINUITY

It's cooler now, and the leaves amidst the trees above you lose their essential green shine in exchange for a withered brown or neutral yellow.

If you're lucky, you'll catch sight of an exuberant red somewhere between the sky and the ground. The colors of summer have bled away, and you sense that something new is coming.

IV. WINTER: THE BEGINNING OF THE END

The time comes for you to lay to rest, but the energy you have absorbed thus far refuses to leave you.

Beneath the pale white that envelopes you, you can feel this thrum that you're beginning to become accustomed to. It tastes like change, this perpetual state of movement — you can't sit still.

You continue to adapt, to transform, the same way the seasons blur past in a spirited rush.

To remain static is to fade away into nothingness, and neither you nor I could ever allow that to happen.

You realize now, with a startle, that this is the season of change, and it will never stop coming at you, shifting, moving, transitioning.

You live in a manner that allows you to evolve — you've let the sun warm your skin, smelled the red and orange of fall, felt the lush green of spring.

The Earth is dormant, now, beneath your feet, but you can feel a slight tremor, and a brilliant chill snakes up your back, because you're alive, and nothing will ever be the same again.

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