|Image Credit: MeteoWeb|
I almost didn't make it to the mid-line of the mountain where Laguna Negra makes her home, grounded between two large stone formations looking like the face of the Incan ancestors from whom the legends about her were passed on from generation-to-generation.
Anemia choked my chest, and the breath became strange and stranger to me as we made the climb to reach her sacred space of tears that flowed from the heavens down the mountain into her liquid womb to fill her up: the largest cup for the seeker.
I was so breathless that the best I could do was to lay down my burdened body over a flat rock and lean my face in as close as I could, darkness regarding darkness.
You can also LISTEN to the reading of the story (1:18 minutes)
Leaning In was written while participating in a writer's group with about 11 participants in Northern, NJ. A number of writing prompts were provided, "leaning in" was one of them, and we all had fifteen minutes to write a story using that prompt. There is very little editing here except for punctuation, tense, and spelling to keep it as authentic as possible to the original created at the workshop. Thanks to all the writers!