In an Instant

That snowflake against her cheek almost sizzles, though she experiences it as an idea rather than a touch. It is dark now, and she stands under a street lamp, captured by each flake's pattern as it dances past the light before disappearing on her face or adding itself to the quiet, cold blanket underfoot.

Her galoshes cover themselves with snow. She can no longer see them below her ankles and wonders if her feet have disappeared. She wiggles and curls her toes inside four socks her mother insists she wear. The snowsuit tucked into the top of the galoshes is too large, making it easier for her to stand still than to move. Her body is restricted and clumsy, her fingers ineffective and thick with mittens. She steps out and waddles around the bulk of the material between her legs. It is a bother to her small, athletic, three-year-old body. It will soon need to run free. Her best friend will fetch his Superman cape, as he often does, and transform himself into an unmerciful pursuant, happily chasing her down the street, yelling and screaming that he will catch her, and - then what?

Every time she sees the red cape settle onto his shoulders, she knows he will disappear, and something fearful will emerge. His body will enlarge and contort into a crouched, purposeful stance that presages the attack. His freckled face will take on contours that are clouded and menacing. His red hair will flame into an extravagant mane, and like a lion, he will burst from taut and muscular legs designed for the chase. In that instant, their worlds will merge. Both will be compelled to struggle through a survival drama, fleeing and pursuing across an ancient primordial plain. It is the way of the natural world: eat or be eaten.

Petrified, she freezes in place until, without thought, she catapults away. Her body, given full rein, does not disappoint. It takes her safely out of range every time. She has never been captured and is wise beyond her years about the threat, always on guard and never secure. It is the nature of the struggle between them.

Under the streetlamp, she is alone in the falling snow. Everything is quiet, and she no longer fears being pursued. The world belongs to her, and she belongs to it. Her feet do not disappear under a blanket of snow. Her friend removes his cape and heads home, the freckled-faced friend she loves. Survival and extinction, conjured in a single instant of communion and fear, are authentic and threatening when they play out at the intersections of time and place.

For now, darkness holds her in a trance of profound peace. She delights in seeing her exhaled breath as proof of life. Chuckling through the intakes and outflows, her essence connects to everything around her. She settles into her essential Self in the world where she belongs. Nothing is the same without her, nor does she exist apart.