Drearily framed in a constant low-light, her world was dead. No feelings, no emotions, at least none that could be shown. He’d left so long ago, she only missed him subconsciously now. It wasn’t hard anymore; distance wasn’t difficult. It was just existent like the rest of the things beheld in her presence.
****
Only yesterday was it softly lit and from every angle she could see, he was perfect. It took no time for her to fall in to that pudding-like substance called love. It was warm and wrapped around her, and like butter in a pan, she melted.
****
Blockaded in the cave of the dark reality of his disappearance, life beyond had become unreachable. Some days she would tremble and shake as she woke, no light penetrating the curtains that crusted over her eyes. Numb were the fingers she rubbed on the film, scratching away, determined to find herself and happiness again.
****
A full moon was hovering above that night, as the two of them pushed their kayaks into the calm waters of the pond. Inaudible to all but the two lovers, the love theme played long and romantically as they paddled to Bear Island, side by side. Duets of cellos and violins synchronized with the currents they fought, and the other’s eyes illuminated green in the light of the moon. Lumina, my crazy baby.
****
Just another couple months and he’d be home, standing on the stoop of the airport glaring at her, expecting open arms and pouting lips as his greeting. He looked different to her every time he came back, and wouldn’t recognize him till an hour later when they were driving to her parent’s home. He would hold her hand, but she’d still pull back, feeling as though she were doing something wrong. For so long, she wasn’t to show any affection to the opposite sex and now, it was overwhelming to think that she would have to kiss and hug him. She’d move her head away as he went in to kiss her taut lips and she’d giggled like the most innocent of all creatures.
****
That first hour would pass and things would be lit softly again, She’d cling to his sides as they walked up the driveway to the door of the house. Disappearance disappeared and so would the boulders that hindered the light. She was set free and happiness shined once again on his perfect face.
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6 comments:
Tell me your thoughts on this before I comment, and before you give me your thoughts, go back and read your 43, the red dress one.
Both are twisted in time sequence. I think this one is better written than 43. because it compares the "light" that is not existent when "he" is not as well. It has much more meaning than 43. which is merely a small tale. I left much to be interpreted, I believe, by not describing the characters, just emotion or the lack thereof. Those are my thoughts.
I don't know why it says 1 comment. I posted that previous comment forever ago.
I was pretty sure you'd like this one better than 43. To me there's no comparison and 43 is the keeper, this the also-ran.
My opinion: you're trying too hard for writerly effects here and so you overwrite--all but the next-to-last graf which feels like it was written at a different time or for a different piece. That graf has the flat, sober tone of 43 I like so well.
so what should i do, oh great suami?
As far as writing goes, my opinion: forget yourself as much as possible and don't try for fancy.
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