Saturday, December 27, 2014

The fall

The observer watched him from a distance.
She didn't care about who he was or what he did.
She had known him for far too long to care about that.
She just watched his hands frantically fly in the air as he tried to be the first to answer the teacher's question. He had long, long fingers. An artist's fingers. A musician's fingers. She could imagine those finger gently caressing the strings of his guitar. She could imagine those fingers gently untangling the strands of her hair. Brushing them away from her eyes. Lacing them through her own stubby short fingers.
She stopped. She turned away.
The observer knows all this very well.
She knows that this will never last. That moments are fleeting, temporary.
That feelings are there today, gone tomorrow.
And that emotions could kill.
She knew this because she had died too often.
Because she had felt like someone had taken a piece of her soul. Because they had left a hole in it too.
Because she had felt like the sun wouldn't rise. Because she sometimes didn't find a reason to get out of bed.
And the observer knew very well that she couldn't save herself from a hollowed out heart again.

The observer had covered her eyes with her palms, determined not to turn around and look again. One more look and she knew she would fall. And fall hard, with no ground to prevent her from falling. With nothing to hold her as she fell.
She didn't want to.
Until she opened her eyes and saw him looking at her.
Until she saw his eyes.
Velvety, warm.
And suddenly, the ground beneath her feet fell apart.

She shouldn't have. The observer shouldn't have. 


  1. Whoa! I think I need to read this again. And again. And again. This is so mysterious and deep. Beautifully written. :)

  2. This is written beautifully. You have portrait the emotions and feelings so well, this is realistic. :)


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