Harbinger - 1. Harbinger

Harbinger

The sky ahead is pitch black, blacker than midnight, despite it being mid-afternoon.

The night sky at least has some illumination to provide relief from the inky oppression.

This is a wall of darkness – a curtain promising sound and fury.

Four horsemen riding obsidian surf.

Behind is the polar opposite.

Bright sunshine glints in my rearview mirror,

highlighting the rainbow of fall foliage crowning the trees.

It’s a paradise of colors; a bird preening and showing off its feathers,

strutting its stuff.

I want to turn around. Go back to the light and colors and pretty bird.

Back is safety and freshly-baked cookies and family togetherness and no responsibilities.

Forward is sharp and loud and noxious.

It is responsibilities and knowledge I don’t want to face.

The timing and contrast couldn’t be more spot on.

The light turns green and I drive forward, staring at the impenetrable wall,

drumming my fingers on the wheel, shouting “bring it on!”

I soon encounter the first horseman.

Famine grows plump as it feasts on my frayed nerves, emotional turmoil, and anxiety.

It rides away on a howling gust of wind, leaving me an empty husk.

I carry on forward, anticipating War as the storm engages me in battle,

lashing me with wind and rain, wipers on high speed,

as thunder crashes around me.

War somehow makes it inside the car, and whispers in my ear,

“Suicide is certain if the diagnosis is positive.”

I grip the wheel, white-knuckled, and sit up straighter, pushing the asshole away.

It’s not certain.

It will be negative.

It has to be.

I’m too young to lose a parent.

The rain lessens enough for me to put my wipers on regular speed.

There is a lightening of the darkness as Conquest rides through.

He stands in front of me, horse chewing its bit and stamping its legs.

I’m not sure who has conquered what as I drive though them, relegating them to mist,

but I feel as if I have taken a leap forward, sure in my faith.

The final horseman waits on the side of the road as I pass the tower where the tests occurred

and the results will be given.

A diagnosis that will determine when Death will visit again.

I flip him off as I drive by and say,

“Not today, Death. Not today.”