The Greatest Escape

A rich hush empties my mind as I traverse the snow-fallen landscape. While this gift seeps into the crevices of my deepest anxieties, I inhale sharply through my nose and exhale through my mouth, catalyzing the calming effects with icy breath. I walk briskly. The cold keeps pace but doesn’t bother me. A scene like this is my tabula rasa; the sins I mean to outrun mean nothing here. Acting as both sanctuary and confessor, the only danger I face in this forest is from myself. It’s the trees that understand that I didn’t have a choice. The ground assures me I’m still a good person. The wind whispers soft promises never to let someone hurt me again.

Firn falls, covering my wrongs, permitting me to forget, to build something new. To do better. In the quiet, I could stay forever. Alone. I don’t need any home but here. Squalls less lethal than my former lover seem like a warm invitation when I consider the alternative for my crime. It’s only a matter of time before they find his body. What do I care, though? It’s far too cold here to cry. I stop. The only sound, the crunching of my feet through the snow, stops, too. I close my eyes. I try to place myself in the silence. As my extremities numb, clarity on where I end and the air begins fades. It renders me a part of the whole. I see that now. Finally, yes, I can rest.