their story
tattoo
Posts: 7
There was a purple-violet sort of fluidity to the sky: eternal and fleeting. Also there was a silver little arrow of a plane like a tracer bullet with no aim that floated helplessly, caught in the raging winds near the solar-surface level. Funny how you never hear the wind of it unless you are alone.
She turned back to the man, the empty parking lot. Broken glass winks and shivers in the grey sunlight.
"So..." She can't think of any words.
"Yeah. I know. Look- we can still hang out and stuff."
"No. No. It can't ever be the same. Lets please just let it go."
"If that's what you want."
"You never did care, did you?"
"I loved you."
"It was..." A hundred thousand analogies, some of which made sense, strike like lightning but none left a mark. "It was good."
And with that the door shut tight forever and ever and ever.
Looking out over the water as the sun rose, changing everything to red-gold splendor. The great windows with their glass panes sparkling and the pure white curtains mimicking the spray from water hitting rock stood open like doors to eternity. He leaned out over the balcony, long hair blown back from his face by the soft breeze. Musician's fingers gripped the edge, slightly darkened by the brutal sun but mostly unchanged by its touch. Glancing back over his shoulder he can see the bedroom, dark even at sunrise. In the bed an anonymous girl sleeps; she would leave and forget him and in a few days they would pass each other on the street and not even a flicker of recognition would pass between them.
The sunlight crept slowly into the room until it illuminated the opposite wall with its mirror and the light became too strong. He walked down the stairs to the sand and the rocks and spent almost a minute balanced perfectly between the water and the shore.
In the water everything is tinted but still perfectly clear. It's as if light has no meaning- like everything else. The memory of a smile haunts everything he does, hiding in the shadows and reflecting off buildings.
When he returns the girl is gone. He didn't know her name. He turns the picture by the bed so it catches the light and her eyes shine like he remembers. Some day he'll find her again. If she will ever forgive him- and if he can forgive her. The glass breaks and the blood runs from his hands onto her picture.
She had her back to the crowd, of course, with a meladramatic backlighting catching the gold and red in her hair. It always started out this way. The confrontation, noisy and brutal enough to attract a crowd, then the touch that sparked the forgiveness and love.
This time, the touch didn't come.
She turned back to the man, the empty parking lot. Broken glass winks and shivers in the grey sunlight.
"So..." She can't think of any words.
"Yeah. I know. Look- we can still hang out and stuff."
"No. No. It can't ever be the same. Lets please just let it go."
"If that's what you want."
"You never did care, did you?"
"I loved you."
"It was..." A hundred thousand analogies, some of which made sense, strike like lightning but none left a mark. "It was good."
And with that the door shut tight forever and ever and ever.
Looking out over the water as the sun rose, changing everything to red-gold splendor. The great windows with their glass panes sparkling and the pure white curtains mimicking the spray from water hitting rock stood open like doors to eternity. He leaned out over the balcony, long hair blown back from his face by the soft breeze. Musician's fingers gripped the edge, slightly darkened by the brutal sun but mostly unchanged by its touch. Glancing back over his shoulder he can see the bedroom, dark even at sunrise. In the bed an anonymous girl sleeps; she would leave and forget him and in a few days they would pass each other on the street and not even a flicker of recognition would pass between them.
The sunlight crept slowly into the room until it illuminated the opposite wall with its mirror and the light became too strong. He walked down the stairs to the sand and the rocks and spent almost a minute balanced perfectly between the water and the shore.
In the water everything is tinted but still perfectly clear. It's as if light has no meaning- like everything else. The memory of a smile haunts everything he does, hiding in the shadows and reflecting off buildings.
When he returns the girl is gone. He didn't know her name. He turns the picture by the bed so it catches the light and her eyes shine like he remembers. Some day he'll find her again. If she will ever forgive him- and if he can forgive her. The glass breaks and the blood runs from his hands onto her picture.
She had her back to the crowd, of course, with a meladramatic backlighting catching the gold and red in her hair. It always started out this way. The confrontation, noisy and brutal enough to attract a crowd, then the touch that sparked the forgiveness and love.
This time, the touch didn't come.
That morning, the worlds dripped from his fingers like dew from a leaf... [‡]
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