When
a cub in the wild loses his mother who does he look to for support?
Either they die trying to survive or they die. This is not what
I was put here to do. When I finally reached the door, I grabbed
the handle, it was so warm, like the touch of the loved one I had
missed for longer then I could remember. I held on this time not
like in the past. I squeezed so tight I could not let go. I pulled
the door wide open...
It was so different from the usual dark, damp, dreary conditions
of the green room that it actually sparked a flicker of excitement
to see what was out there. There was so much light I was blinded
instantly, but the heat, the warmth was sucking my soul right out
the door.
I was leaving; I was smiling, while I was crying. It felt like some
one had driven a dump truck off my chest and parked it somewhere
else for a second. I could breathe again and I finally felt free.
What will it feel like tomorrow morning?
~Joseph Smith
is a freelance photographer whose day-job is with a printing company
in Ottawa, Ontario.
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