This is another story I wrote at University for a course. It might sound eerie at times, but in a way it’s supposed to be reassuring. The song “Moonlight Shadow” by Mike Oldfield inspired me, at least the title did. I’m sure some people will know that feeling of being lost, not being themselves lately, and this little story is trying to capture that feeling. Enjoy!
The Day my Soul was stolen
You are probably not aware of the fact that there are quite some people without their soul out there. I believe most of them don’t even know about it. Come to think of it, they might not even believe in their soul. It is a very difficult subject, to be fair. Some people never part with their soul while they are alive. And there are some who are born without one, but that’s the scary stuff I’d rather not talk about. There are some mysteries we should not delve into too deeply, lest we lose our souls forever.
I was lost rather unexpectedly. I was walking home at night from a friend’s house. It was a beautiful, clear night. You could see the stars twinkling. And even though the air was cold, it was refreshing and clean. The Moon – how little did I know then of its beauty – shone so very brightly. But despite the beauty of it, I was eager to get home and have a cup of tea to drive the cold away, maybe a hot shower, too. And then go to bed. I remember thinking about my lectures the next day and how I have had to decide between my friend and my seminar preparation. I quickened my pace a bit. Every time I walked out of reach of the street lights, I positively felt the shadow of the moon on my face. The shadow that accompanies all light and will still be there when the light goes out. Right when I looked up and felt the longing for a place among the stars, I walked into a wall of shadow. It felt almost warm. I saw myself walking on. The other part of me. Just like that. Crossing the border of light and shadow. But a part of me, I, couldn’t. The shadow held me gently. I couldn’t move past it. The only direction I seemed to be able to move in was towards the sky. Towards the Moon. I can’t say I was flying. I can’t even say I was there anymore. I don’t even know if I’m here. Not me on the whole, that is to say. One part down there, not heeding, not understanding what just happened; and me here.
What am I? I guess I’m the conscious part of my unconsciousness. So to speak. If you were the other part of me, you wouldn’t be aware you’ve lost me. Until you find me again. Or so I’ve heard. I’ve learned a lot since I’ve been lost. A stray soul. Some people find their missing piece, when they smell a specific scent. Some do when they look into the mirror and possibly beyond it. Or some do when they feel affection for something or someone. Possibilities are as varied as people and their souls. It also depends on where you’ve lost yourself in the first place. I’m waiting for myself to look up at the stars and realise where I have gone. And find me again. But as long as it takes, I will wait here and try to complete this part of me. And when I’m One again, the Moon will be different than before. I assume. But I have learned to take nothing for granted. In this world you can’t be sure of anything, when even souls go wandering off…
(Copyright lies with me, copyright stays with me – Thank you 🙂 )