Forlorn Hope. The words echoed in her head. Who knew such a profound phrase could be found on the side of a wine bottle? Here she was, hours later, and they still reverberated around her mind. Forlorn hope. Those two little words explained her state of being better than any psychology or philosophy could. She had lost all faith in the world, had sealed away her heart to the pain and suffering, watching it all collapse around her. Forlorn hope. If she looked deep inside herself, she could still find that little flicker, abandoned, lost, unable to find the light. She had a choice now, she realized. She could leave that small bit of hope, that shred of optimism, hidden in the bottom of her soul. Or she could bring it with her, nurture it, help it flourish and reach out into the world. Forlorn hope. Either way, it was time.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020