The Epiphany
By: Jill Kelley
Tags: Fiction, Satisfaction, Striving, Surrender, Epiphany

Lorna Maccabee found some stairs. She stepped onto the first one and then kept going, step after step, flight after flight, left foot, right foot, again, left foot, right foot, again, on and on, step after step.

After a while, she forgot how she got there. Where was she going? Why was she here? But still, she continued. Was she making progress? She didn’t know. Was she even moving? It was hard to tell. With every step, her resolve grew stronger; she must reach the top. She needed satisfaction. Curiosity fed her obsession. How many steps had she taken? She didn’t know. How long had she been at it? Hours? Days? Years? Eons? How much longer could she bear to go on? She kept at it, never growing weaker nor hungry nor thirsty. She just kept climbing.

How high up was she now? As high as a sequoia? A skyscraper? Higher than Mt. Everest? As a moth is drawn to the light, her toes were drawn to the next step. She passed the stratosphere, and still, she kept going. She began to wonder if she should turn back, impossible. Higher, she climbed. She forgot what it was like to move her body any way other than stepping up, stepping up, never ceasing stepping up, step after step. She was mesmerized by her robotic movements, lulled into a meditative state whereupon each step produced incredible visions. Her pace remained constant as the ticking of a clock, yet her visions relayed vast amounts of information so that her perception of time was confounded.

Complete memories bombarded her senses, some fond, some frightening, while others were more like dreamy abstract concepts gleaned from experiences and life lessons; each step was a blast. The depth and range of these phantasms were vast, and they came fast, some simple as whitewash, others complex as collage. She felt every first day of school, every accomplishment big and small, making a basket, blocking a goal. Illusions of holidays, celebrations, sermons, learning, winning, graduating, getting married, having children. More steps brought other visions too, full of regret, lying and stealing, abortion, and cheating. Painful ones of loved ones dying, illnesses, divorces, prison sentences, addictions, hangovers, failures, disappointments felt like stepping on goat heads. Still, others were exhilarating, riding a horse, driving a car, flying, boating, public speaking, singing, dancing, creating, traveling, first kisses, and more. Every single step brought a vision.

After every bit of her life was exhausted, there were still more steps. She kept going. Then every step brought out entire books, songs, movies, plays, even newscasts, every single bit of media ever to fill her mind. Next flashed hopes and dreams for a future she wished for if ever, if only, she could get to the top.

After a long while, the visions stopped, then all that existed was herself and the stairs. Still, no end was perceived, so clomping along, what was the use? Then, at last, the Epiphany. These stairs were as conceited as wise King Solomon’s vanities. And Lorna Maccabee finally surrendered. At last, she made it up to the top, except the top was the bottom. Back at the very first step, she turned and walked away satisfied.