The Decipherment
* * *
It was a whole new world out there on an open sea. Isabelle was still trying to replay what had happened just now, but she had better things to worry about than that; things like she could live in her dream. She knew exactly what she would find if she looked down to where she stood: the raging and deep sea. Resignation is the only remedy in fear . . . but only for those who can not face their fear. Isabelle started to look closely at her surroundings; taking in every bit of detail . . . it was her dream after all.
The bridge was hanging loosely from both ends tied to cliffs. Isabelle looked at her back and then front, but it was . . . blank, like nothing existed beyond the edges of the cliffs. Maybe it was just a dead space, she wondered. It looked as if it had been hanging there for years. Every time she stirred, it started to shake and tremble violently, as if it might fall any minute. Fungus had grown on its undersides. It seemed to be about 100 feet above or so and beneath it lay the raging sea.
Even from up above so high, Isabelle could clearly hear the rushing sound of the waves beneath, and the damp smell of seawater made her nauseatic. Nature exhibits it beauty and brutality at the same time. Looking down, Isabelle couldn’t help but forget her fear at once and take in the soothing blue and green of the ocean beneath, with rippling waves rising high above.
It wasn’t the water or the depth of the sea that scared her – just the height from it did. She ignored the clammy feeling building up on her whole frame and held on firmly to the rope binding either side of the bridge. She didn’t even know where the other end might take her, or which side she should turn to, or whether she should move at all, as the bridge wouldn’t hold for long.
Judging from where she stood, Isabelle found the end of the bridge closer to her right side than the one to her left. Therefore, she decided to take the path to the right. Gripping firmly on the rope, she took one step, than two steps, and when she was sure the bridge wouldn’t give way all of a sudden, she became more firm in her steps. She didn’t rush either, afraid she might put too much and pressure on the already loose edges.
It all felt so real . . . so concrete, but Isabelle knew it just a fragment of the thousands of fantasies that were only in her mind. She had seen nearly almost everything she thought existed in the confines of her mind come to life. She wondered if she was still dreaming somehow, because the last thing she remembered doing was falling asleep on the couch in her study.
A dream within a dream, she thought.