WATER

This was the title for our creative writing group. Here is the story which is partly true

Pushing the door open I stepped into a damp clammy room similar to a film set from a horror film. Figures were vaguely visible in the gloom, each sitting in an arched seat cut into the wall. The faintest of lights showed that eyes were closed and each head was tilted to touch the tiled walls. Classical panels hovered between the figures and the roof like headstones still waiting the addition of a name. Four seats were vacant around the curved walls and as my vision became more sensitive I took my place on the moist surface.

This was the Aqua Meditation room. Part of our short break included an afternoon in the Luxury Spa with herbal and steam baths, sensory showers and saunas. According to the guide I was now, assisted by a refreshing scent of lemons, in an oasis of total relaxation where body and soul became one. My spirit was about to be uplifted and my mind invigorated.

Unfortunately at that moment the door opened, pushing a little extraneous light into the shadows and back lighting my son in law, John. He stepped forward, turned to his left, and then tripped over the outstretched legs of another worshipper. He lay embarrassed across the thighs of a more mature lady, his arms reaching forward to stop himself falling onto the floor. She smiled wistfully, her hand hovering as though wanting to stroke John’s naked back. No one else moved; they were obviously being deeply calmed in their inspirational meditation.

I tried to still my mind, breathing deeply and slowly, with my eyes closed. Rhythmically I counted to four on the in breath, held for four, breathed out, held again and then drew a deep gasp of desperation on the final count. I was told afterwards that I sounded more like a steam engine labouring up a hill with a long coal train.

I opened my eyes and sat more upright in my seat. There were now eight of us sitting round the central font. Overhead was a huge convex milky glass screen suspended from the ceiling. As tiny drops of water hit the central bowl, the ripples were reflected upwards. Lines moved across its surface like clouds viewed through the windows of an aeroplane. I began looking for patterns but what came to mind were thoughts of creation and the primal swamps of early evolution. Perhaps this was how life began. Each movement represented a thought, communicated by intensity of shape, touched each other, and then returned from the centre to the perimeter only to reform but after another manner.

This was heavy stuff and I closed my eyes again letting the stillness calm me. A solitary drop of water lost its hold on the screen and plopped downwards, gently tapping my forehead before splitting in two and curving towards my cheeks. Was this a reflection of creation? Did a single atom slip from the swirling movement and begin a journey into manifestation.

I half opened my eyes to peer at the water movement again. Something was wrong. Three black spots floated before my eyes. I blinked. They were still there. I shook my head. Common sense cut in. Relief! Three tiny dark spouts protruded below the dome. I must have seen them before but had not realised this was the source of the tiny drops of water falling to make reflected patterns.

With a smile I scanned the room wondering if any one had seen the alarm on my face. I reached sideways, touched my wife, Norma’s fingers and gave a gentle squeeze. Her skin felt sticky and I put my hand back on my knee to see if my body was the same. This place was supposed to calm, not throw alarm calls around.

I breathed deeply again. The lady in the azure blue bikini stood and smiled round the room before carefully stepping over feet and moving to the door. The inflow of natural light reflected off her pale skin before the door snapped closed again. Perhaps it was as well she’d been almost hidden by the central water column, or my attention might have strayed.

I tipped my head back and stared briefly upwards before telling my mind to drift wherever it would. A gurgle murmured into my consciousness, burbling, babbling, bubbling as the water container emptied itself and the heavenly movements ceased. Then three loud plops echoed and the lines chased each other into and out of the centre again. I wanted my left eye to watch one direction and my right to track their return.

Another heavenly missile found its target on the tip of my nose, running down the side, past my mouth and trickling onto my chin. I looked at Norma and raised my eyebrows in query. She nodded. Carefully we stood, and squeezed past the chap with the moustache who’d just started to snore and opened the door.

It was amazing what could happen with water.

828 words