A response to the photographic art piece, “Displacement” by Shelley Corocoran. http://www.shelleycorcoran-photography.com/index.html

Erika was now submerged in silence, after deploying with force the anguish she had contained for so long. The depth of peace she felt must surely equal the volume of anger they were now displacing.

The fluid she was immersed in muffled the vile language they were throwing at each other, each blaming the other for their lack of understanding and knowledge. They were both equally hurting from the pain she had just revealed, pain that was hidden for quite some time. Their perfect child, their ‘A’ student, high-flyer prodigy, hated it all.

She was lulled by the soft music of their voices which through the water had a lullaby effect. She sank deeper and deeper into the warm rising liquid that wafted calming lavender over her tired limbs and she realised that they were both wrong of course. They were, neither of them, to blame. She was the villian of her own piece. Now that she knew this, the softness surrounded her being as she lay there with the despair dissipating.

She concentrated on watching the bubbles form around her nostrils, admiring the colours and shapes as she felt her limbs floating, gently bobbing up and down, the water rising and ebbing with each movement. Her hair spread over her and out like seaweed, moving softly over her face as her vacant eyes stared at the bubbles. She felt her pulse slowing and her lungs closing.

Time to rise, she would burst if she didn’t surface. She sat up and gasped a long and beautiful breath. She stepped out of the water and watched it settle down to the level it was before she entered. She stopped, dripping droplets of now cold water into the bathtub and listened to the almost silent whispering outside the door. The fire in their anger had gone out and they were ready to talk. It would be a long goodbye.

4^th November 2014