Light and Dark

Based upon the writing prompt located at A Writing Prompt a Day

They say that in order for there to be good in the world there must be evil. Balance must be maintained. The creation of the most vile causes the birth of the most holy. Sinner begets saint. Darkness begets light. Whereas most people are grey – light souls with a streak of darkness – there are those for whom there is no light or dark. And there are those that go beyond, those for whom the words light and dark have no meaning. The darker the blackness of the damned, the brighter the light of the redeemer. My wife, Miranda, was a soul of blinding light. I was not.

Miranda would stop to talk to people who appeared lost, sad or confused.  She would help people cross the street, reach items on high shelves and carry parcels to their cars.  Children flocked to her as if she were the only light in a darkened room.  Everyone loved her, but no one more than I.

In a bleak and angry world of my own creation, she appeared as the lighthouse to anchor my soul and keep me human. She reached out to me, to me!  The blackness within my soul was a searing cold that burnt all that touched it and yet, when Miranda held me close there was no cold nor black, no depths of despair, only bright glorious love.  She showed me the heights of love and how two people,  so different in temperament, could find a common ground, could find solace and comfort with each other.

She gave me so much that given an infinite amount of time I could never describe the gifts that she left me with every single day that we were together.  She gave me the gift of compassion, the ability sympathize with my fellow human beings and express my concern for their sufferings.  She gave me the gift of altruism, where I truly felt concern for others and strived to make their lives easier.

She gave me love.

A love that I had never known existed, that I had never known could exist.  A love so pure and free that I drowned in its expression and was reborn a better man.  I strove to make myself worthy of her love.  I did my best to return her love in every way I could.  I felt that my love for her was never what she gave me in return, falling short of what I wanted to give her, but she didn’t care.  She loved me for the person I was, the person I wanted to be and the person that I would be.

She was, most assuredly, the brightest star that banished all shadows.

But, as darkness begats light, so does light begat darkness.  As Miranda dragged me from the screaming abyss of darkness the universe was out of balance and, in an effort to balance the universe, a new evil was born.  An evil that made my previous self seem pale in comparison.

All of this came to me as I stared down at the still, cold form of my wife, her head nestled in my lap.  The sounds of sirens approached, police and ambulance coming together.  They were too late, both of them, for my wife was gone, as was her killer.  The darkness that Miranda had kept at bay in my soul leaped upwards and threatened to consume me, threatened to fill me with a burning cold of hatred.

But, within that void, within that black soulless night that filled me there lay a shining beacon of light.  My memories of her would not fade.  My memories of her would keep the darkness from completely filling me.  She would survive, within me, I would survive because of that.

Revenge is black.  But justice?  I do not know if justice is dark or light, but I intend to find out.


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IT Philosopher and budding author.

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