Ophelia's Aqueduct

(Written November 2010)

Sat up straight, atop the limestone aqueduct, a young Ophelia gazed out over the open valley. This was her favourite spot. From here she could see over all of Elsinore, to the ocean and beyond. She could listen to the tranquil sounds of the canal water sitting just beneath her feet, and occasionally, a few times each hour, a longboat would pass right beside her. For Ophelia, only atop this heavenly highway could she truly be happy, truly at one with herself and truly away from the complex politics of her everyday life.

In the distance, Ophelia noticed a houseboat appear at one side of the valley. As it gradually approached, she spotted a tall gentleman disappear away into the boat, leaving a smaller figure out on the deck, admiring the view, just as she was. By the time the boat was within twenty yards, Ophelia could see that the figure was a young boy, with bright blue eyes that radiated kindness and joy. His head was as bald as the valley was deep, but his smile was unmistakably genuine: the image of undistorted, uncorrupted pleasure and self-expression. The boat passed her by, as did the boy, and locked into his gaze, Ophelia reached up to wave a heartfelt good bye, and good luck. But just as she raised her arm came a strong gust of wind, and with one hand above her head Ophelia lost her balance, and toppled over the edge of the aqueduct.

As the air rushed past her ears, the sky became warm, and a piercing monotone rang out around her, drilling itself into her thoughts. She span through the falling sky and noticed the blue grass below getting brighter and nearer. Suddenly, a glimpse of the bald boy, his smile stretched out as wide as the horizon, passed by her closing eyes. Then as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by the image of a girl clasping a bundle of rosemary, fennel and daises. Her white dress bounced playfully along the grass as she skipped towards a silhouette in the distance, the tassels of his epaulettes swaying in the breeze. The sky became brighter yet, now close to a pale yellow, as the incandescence of the sun backlit every image with an ethereal glow. Then another flash, a bright white, and the girl was sat on a pearly chair, gently caressing a lute, her hands pale, her fingers long and spindly yet soft as the clouds above her. Opening her eyes, Ophelia considered how life may not be so straight as the aqueduct, but could be multi-faceted, a whirlwind of encounters, emotions and experiences, piled up and mixed around, to create one greater feeling, an expression of everything that makes humanity what it is. And with that thought, a smile stretched across Ophelia's face, wide as the valley.

As she approached the ground, the young Ophelia's dress snagged on a protruding Willow branch, breaking her fall and slowing her down to dangle peacefully above the cascading stream beneath her feet.