Two Steps Forward And Three Steps Back Novels & Stories

I pressed my palms into the dirt and made myself feel the grit and the cold. “Get up,” I told myself. I did. One step. Two. The third folded me. I caught a trunk and leaned on it until the stars quit dancing behind my eyes. Somewhere far, a night bird started up. The sound was small and brave and ended quick. I pushed off the tree and tried again. Ten steps. Twenty. The ground rose and fell, then rose again. The fog thinned, thickened, thinned. The steps behind me stayed. Or they didn’t. I couldn’t tell anymore.

“We will do both sides, go all the way down and back.” That one was a little more doable for me but I still struggled. I didn’t trip as much but I wasn’t near as fast. However, I didn’t have to stop between each set so by the end of the fourth, I was winded. “Good job. Next we are going backwards. Bring one foot in and tap it before pulling it out and back. You will be doing this backwards so really focus on where your feet are at.” Justina showed me again. The first time through, it was at a snails pace but by the time I got the hang of it, it went much smoother. “My legs are burning.”

“If I hit a wall, I swear…” “You won’t.” His tone was maddeningly calm, like he could see through every protest. “One step. Just one.” I sucked in a breath and moved. The mat shifted under my sneakers, the rubber squeaking faintly. My arms flew out slightly, as if they could catch balance for me. “See?” he murmured. “Not so bad. Now left. Two steps. Stop.” I obeyed, pulse racing, every nerve waiting for disaster. But nothing happened. Just his voice, firm but low, carrying me forward.

W͟i͟n͟t͟e͟r͟ One step at a time right? Scoooot. Step. Scoooot. Step. See? Not that hard. Really not that hard. Even as I think those words, my body fights against me. Lots of slow, shallow breaths, inching forward until I'm just barely shuffling along. Shuffle. Shimmy, shimmy. Shuffle. I take another slow sliding step forward.

NOAH “Find a way to make it up to the man.” Nancy’s words float at the back of my mind once again, two days after the whole weekend debacle. “Apologize again, buy the guy lunch, maybe even cook dinner for him…” That proved to be easier said than done by the end of the second day.

The roots able to hold more because they had held through more. Two years. The distance between the ceremony and this moment. The ground walked. One step at a time. In the direction worth walking. Still walking. Still becoming. Still here. Still. Rising. Always.

I encouraged myself I cried as I forcefully raised my leg and still placed it on another thorn flower just to move forward. I cursed Alpha North from within me. If he wasn't so crazy about that maid. None of this would have happened. Nathan was just a temporary fix till I could get Alpha North to come around again. Fortunately, the third step that I took was on the bare ground. A sigh of relief escaped my lungs as the cool sand seeped into my bloodied feet. At this point, I could barely walk again, my legs were shaking. Slowly I crumbled on all fours, my hands and my knees.

"A single step down." "Yes," he said. "Why not two?" she said. "The threshold room is lower than the kitchen by more than one step's worth. You could have put two steps and made each one smaller." He thought about this. He thought about the two-step option — he had considered it in December, the gentler descent, the step divided. He had drawn it and looked at it and then drawn the single step and understood the difference. "The single step is a decision," he said. "Two steps is a process. The body makes a decision on a single step — it crosses a threshold. On two steps the body manages a descent. The room needs the threshold, not the descent."

It's barely working. She stands for about 20 seconds, and then she decides to leave. Phew. He lowers his hand and we exchange a knowing look. He presses the time and place for us to return home. With that familiar zap, we're back in his bathroom—in the present. I hope. I exit first and open the door. Mystery solved. We're back in his messy room. I can finally take a breath. "That was—" "Fuckin awesome!," he exclaims. I beam, "The teams not over yet." I raise my palm to high five him.

"Give her some room." Charles hesitated, his brows furrowed with worry. Slowly, he stepped back, his hands hovering in the air as if ready to catch me at any moment. I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. One step at a time, I told myself. My legs felt like jelly beneath me, but I pushed forward. The first step was wobbly, but I managed. Encouraged, I lifted my foot for the next—and everything gave out. I felt an explainable pain.