A Rising Fall

by C. Sean McGee

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  The Woman sat on the edge of her table with her legs crossed. She wore a resplendent smile and the look in her eyes brought calm to The Children, just as the sun hath once upon a time brought warmth to the day. The room was cleared of all reckoning and the children looked on, looking for love.

  Behind The Woman was an image, identical to that in The Children’s dreams. There was a thin road that weaved through a web of concrete structures. Its path was barely visible, but one could just make out the line of brickwork to follow. The path led to the top of the image where an outline of people stood holding hands in a sublime circle. The darkness had retreated into their shadow once more and they stood under an orange hue, as the new sun rose into the sky for the final time; the face of The Collective, the image of one.

  The Woman handed each Child a piece of chalk and charcoal. They were free to be as they pleased about the classroom; sitting, standing, facing a wall, looking out the broken windows or lying on the floor. Each Child had an instrument of design in their hand and The Woman instructed them to lose their conscious focus and attain that of their sub conscious.

  She told The Children that the object in their hands was the voice of their subconscious and that soon they would speak without a tongue, they would think without thought. As she would sing to The Children, they would submit to their subconscious selves and sing along through the shades in their hands.

  As The Woman hummed angelically, The Children started to smile, closing their eyes and becoming the tune. Their subconsciousness’ danced and as they did, their tiny hands swayed to and fro, scratching at the floor and walls. The Woman’s humming fell into words as she succumbed to reason. She sang lightly, so much so that the words seemed to lift from her tongue and float about the air.

  Child my dear Child, untamed, lively and wild,

  You make your Mother smile; you too make your Father smile,

  You do; all of the life that shines out from your eyes,

  It brings heavens down to earth is brings days unto the nights,

  And my child my dear Child, untamed, lively and wild,

  You do make your Mother smile; you too make your Father smile.

  Child my dear Child, untamed, lively and wild,

  Cast off your shackles and play for a while.

  The children listened at first, swaying to the rhythm and painting with their hands then they sang in unison, their melody lifting the mood in the air. The children then sang as one;

  I love you my Sister

  I love you my Brother

  I love you my Father

  I love you my Mother

  I love as one as I live as I love

  As the love that I live is the life that I love

  The air in the room was light and breezy. All The Children danced about with smiles on their faces. The Woman sat on the edge of the table, her heart glowing, and her mind transparent. The sound of Children singing made her feel so warm and secure. This was her favourite part of each day; the lessons of love. For now The Children would learn through song, dance and story how love was one and love was all.

  As she sat at her desk admiring The Children prance and play, a familiar shadow came to a stop at the classroom door. The light from beneath was broken.

  The Woman paid no mind. She moved from the table clapping her hands to join the children in the centre of the room. She carried with her; under her arm, a tale of love, the second part of Jonathon and the Collector.