One Hand

A flash of lightening, a clap of thunder, hands scraped raw from scratching an unforgiving rock wall. Trying to catch the smallest crevice that will supply her with new hope. Hearing someone calling from above, she looks up. A hand is reaching down to her, offering help. The hand makes motions of urgent insistence as she listens to the faceless voice telling her to take hold. warily she pushes herself against the rock wall she has been fighting against. Only be letting go can she reach for the proffered hand. She eyes the unknown hand, unsure of whether it is worth the risk. The rain pouring from the sky has made each movement treacherous. Bracing herself, she removes one hand from the crevice it so desperately sought just moments before, and grabs a hold of the hand. The wind howls like an angry wildcat. She feels her feet loosing their footing. In an act of desperation, she pulls her other hand from its crevice and grabs the wrist belonging to the hand. She holds on to the single arm as her feet lose their place. Suspended over the dark abyss, she's at the mercy of the hand. Time suspends, the wind howls, the rain pours, the lightening flashes, and the thunder claps as she clings to that solitary hand. Caught in all of despair, she wills her lifeline to not let go. Why do people find it so hard to offer both hands? Is there someone who needs you to offer a little more? Are they clinging to the hope that you have shared with them, just wishing you would offer them just a bit more to help them up over the rim of the abyss they are falling into.