Becoming

She hovered formless in the hazy place and observed the pinpoints of possibilities.  Any one of those would lead to the next reality, yet she remained frozen unable to proceed; to commit to a new reality.  Around her, comets of potential flashed by.  Even in her unformed state she sensed forces blowing her off balance; pushing and pulling her; urging her to commit.  She grasped the threadbare shawl of past existence and wound it around her consciousness as though it could protect her from the necessity of change.  “I need an eternity or two before I am ready,” she sighed even as she felt herself moving toward a single point of light.

Eventually, the dance began.  That unbearable pain that compelled her forth even as she resisted became ritual; two steps forward; one step back, then knock, knock knock.  The creaky door slowly opened to the limits of the chain bolt.  A pair of squinted eyes peered in at her, but she, lost in the dance, didn’t notice.

“Why are you so long in arriving?” thundered a voice that made her yearn for a retreat no longer possible.

Two steps forward; one step back; that compelling ritual finally thrust her with such force against the door that she burst open the bolt.  The door opened but not in a welcoming way.  Cold shivers permeated her being as blinding light overwhelmed consciousness.  All she could do was shriek repeatedly pausing only to catch a breath.  She didn’t notice a thunderous voice exclaim. “Congratulations Mrs. Jones.  You have a daughter!”