The Christmas Boots

 

The lone boot lay abandoned in the median of the busy intersection. Few people spared it a glance as they hurried about their day; the holiday was approaching. Homelessness was rampant in the city. No doubt it was just the cast off of one of the many vagrants who occupied that slender piece of concrete hour after hour, day after day.

One man cursed under his breath as he cut the turn too close and the boot caught under his tire, dragging along for a moment before breaking free and bouncing into the center lane. The next car swerved around it and then traffic resumed it's steady pace as cars sped over it.

It was so covered in dirt and filth it was impossible to tell what color it might have formerly been. Even before being run over, it was almost unwearable. The uppers were clearly pulling away from the sole in many places, the laces were completely gone and it was essentially held together with strips of dirty duct tape.

The Darkness

Darkness. She was intimately familiar with the darkness that lived inside her, that sometimes seemed to inhabit her very soul. Some days she embraced it in all its horror and other days she rejected it with a strength borne of desperation. For years there had been a balance, but a year of changes had upset that very delicate balance and more and more she found herself giving into the darkness.

The darkness was her enemy. No matter how well she knew it of that she was always aware. But the darkness was seductive too and while she was aware of the danger, sometimes she didn't care. Because the darkness promised release, an eventual freedom from pain, freedom from her own mind. And as time continued its inexorable march, that freedom became more and more appealing. And the darkness took advantage of that, sinking its claws into her, infecting her with its poison. Soon it would consume her.

Sleep eluded her that night, her unfocused and scattered mind allowing the darkness to creep in. Carefully, it reached out its tendrils and began to gather those scattered thoughts, twining them together in a way that fit its purpose. Unaware of what the darkness was doing, of why her thoughts had begun to clarify, she found herself thinking back over the day, criticizing her every word and action. Why was it so hard for her keep her mouth shut? Why couldn't she be more competent in her job? Why were words so difficult sometimes? Why was she so useless? Around and around she went, sleep drifting farther and farther away as the darkness weaved its malicious web, drawing her deeper and deeper into its embrace. The internal vitriol she spewed at herself ate away at her, driving her to despair. It took her a long time, too long, to finally sense the web closing in around her mind. She began to fight it but those tendrils of darkness had wormed their way deep into her very being and this night she would not win. When sleep at last claimed her, pulling her free from the darkness and granting her mind the respite it so desperately needed, it found her more fractured than ever, the damage done by the darkness bordering on the irreparable. But there was still a spark of resilience and she had the strength to continue fighting the darkness, at least for a little while.