Over the Edge #writephoto

This piece of creative writing was inspired by Sue Vincent’s weekly photo prompt. Thanks for the inspiration, Sue, and I hope you all enjoy the post.


It’s a funny thing, to be alone. It’s not at all like we imagine it, either. Our dreams of relaxing on a moonlit beach, the silence ringing in our ears, they aren’t real. Or maybe we dream less drastically – maybe all we want is to lounge in an empty flat, unbothered by the noise and clutter of others. That’s not real, either, though. The real thing – the real prospect of being absolutely, completely alone – is much bigger, and much more intense.

Sue Vincent
Credit: Sue Vincent

First, you will feel the fear. You will realise that relaxation is impossible because that moonlit beach is haunted by shadows. The silence is there, but it isn’t blessed; it’s thick and crushing, pushing in on you louder than any shout or drumbeat ever could. You glance nervously behind you, terrified of everything that you can’t control, just as you do in that empty flat, because that’s not safe, either. It creaks, and makes strange noises that make you jump and stare at the door.

After the fear, you will relax, but it’s not peaceful. It’s unearthly. You disconnect with your material self as you contemplate much greater things – much scarier things. You almost forget who you are. You aren’t a person with a body anymore; there are just your thoughts, and your thoughts are you.

I stand on the precipice, none but the birds to keep me company, and as I stare down, the shadows dancing in my mind’s eye, I feel myself slip forwards, outside of my body and into my mind. I imagine myself falling, but it’s not real. All that’s real is me – my thoughts – the pointlessness of it all.

And how I don’t want to be alone anymore.

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19 thoughts on “Over the Edge #writephoto

  1. I used to be terrified of being alone in the house… Outdoors, especially at the place in the photo…nothing bothered me. I always felt safe.

    These days I know that we are never truly alone.

    Beautifully described Emily.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’ve actually felt this before…there was a point in my life that I had already moved out of my parents house, and my relationship with my boyfriend had died, and past roommates had moved on – got married, etc. I moved to a new city, in a tiny studio. I couldn’t afford cable for t.v. and the “alone” time – there were times it was too quiet. The kind that you hear the ticking of the clock so loudly, like in stereo. However, it was good for me to learn to deal with alone me. I learned a lot about myself during that quiet time. Before I got married and had kids and now wish for days that I could sit and read the paper and reflect.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Pingback: Over the Edge #writephoto – Emily Weatherburn | Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

    1. Thank you so much! I think I felt it most when I first went away to uni – I was miles away from all my friends and family in a strange city that I knew nothing about… it’s a very strange feeling… glad the emotion came across 🙂

      Like

  4. It is not about being alone but about being lonely. I know we can be all alone and still be lonely and at the other end of the spectrum is that we may never be never be alone but still be achingly lonely.
    You captured that sense of loneliness beautifully.

    Liked by 1 person

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