Mint Leaves

I am awaken by the first rays of sunlight spilling into my cell, heralding the commencement of another day in a place which has become my purgatory. But something is different this morning, for the arms of Morpheus holds me in a half slumber as my conscious tries to clutch at the remnant of a dream early forgotten but for the scent of mint leave which still lingers.

Instinctively, fumble blindly at this mirage, trying desperately to grasp the fading image but it’s like trying to hold onto sand with outstretched fingers. Using everything I have left in me, I force my mind to focus, willing the image to coalesce once more and take me from this dark wood.

I’m floating. A sense of calm courses through me, washing away my anguish, my fear, my shame. I feel at peace. I’m dreaming.

I spring forth! From a giant pile of leaves with an untroubled mind and heartfelt laughter. My uncle stands there smiling with a rake in hand, as my cousin and I take turns, jumping from an old wooden porch railing over my Aunt’s wilting mint plants, into a mountain of leaves below. Unable to control my smile, I run back up the steps of the front porch, launching myself once more, eyes closed and flying high and far, the way only a nine year old can. I’m a superhero (T.B.C.)


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