Boy looks at the girl. The two screens in between,appear as more formidable a barrier than the thousands of miles and the hundreds of barbed national borders separating them. They have been talking for hours, oblivious to the changing skies, it’s evening there and night here…
He has tears in his eyes. It kills her inside, but she can’t reach out. And somehow, every time she is in front of his eyes, her tears freeze. And so do her words.
So when, barely audible, he asks, ” So what am I gonna do when you leave me again?“, she finds the crowding chaotic words in her mind noisily burying his question, clamoring to answer… To tell him, that the next time she leaves him, will be when they decorate her in white lilies, gently close her eyes, and kiss her hushed goodbyes.
That then, they will expect him to be dressed in white. But she doesn’t want him to. She wants him to wear blue. Blue, like the ocean whose waves always made her want to crash against him and cry. Blue, like the autumn sky which always made her want to walk with him through a sudden unexpected October rain. Blue, like the robin’s eggs from the song they just didn’t seem to have enough of. Blue, like the days she missed him. Blue…..
To tell him, that then, they will expect him to break down and cry. But she doesn’t want him to, because nothing could surpass the torment of being locked in a lifeless mortal body and not being able to hold him and say, “Hush my love, don’t you cry, these moments of pain will soon pass by“.
They would expect a whole lot of words from him that day.Words of praise, words of love, words of glory. But all she wants from him, is one word, one whisper…. “Lenore?…”, and the wind,the trees, the breeze, the leaves, will all borrow her voice and whisper back their echo, “Forevermore…“
But instead, her wits and words all fail. And all she does, is look down. And mutter a muted reply, “I am never leaving you again“… Too soft, too frail, to reach his ears. His tear drops. She wipes her own away hastily. And yet, they both know the other is crying.
Outside, the sky changes. The owl hoots. The raven caws.
Two more teardrops fall. Washes the past, dissolves his purple rage, his green hatred, of the person that she had become. Makes a melange, a collage in the background. The lovely red raises it’s head again.
She becomes 14 again. They fall in love again…