Years. She sat on the old park bench, gazing ahead of her, seeing nothing. She was as one lost to the distant chaos and immersed in the handful of sounds around her. The sound of the dry leaves crunching underfoot as folks arose from the benches and walked away. The interpersing voices of people... a mother coaxing her children to get off the swings... the gentle muffled conversation of the elderly couple a few benches away... the bird calls.. the susshh of the wind through the trees. She was awake...but her mind was at rest, peaceful. Her eyes saw him before she could recognise him. It seemed like him. The distant figure had the same roll of the shoulders as he walked towards her. He walked like a man in no hurry. There was a directness about his stride, which the years had not taken away. If anything, it seemed that time had only succeeded in erasing whatever hesitant shyness there may have previously been in his demeanour. He approached until he was standing before her and she sat unmoving, waiting for him to take his place beside her. None of the things she had planned to do, happened. Neither did she flee into his arms or have him gather her in his hugs. All she could do was to let the magnified throbbing of her heart pervade her being while she kept sitting...like a tree rooted to the ground. He lowered himself to sit next to her. She could feel his warmth permeate into her through his jacket into hers and feel her fingers melting into his as he took her hand to entwine them together. Their palms were as one. Their eyes were empty and full at the same time. The tears were only a hint of mistyness and words as the non presence of unfaithful deserters. They sat there..until the cicadas raised their crescendo to an all pervading sound, filling everything around them. The overhead stars shone as if it was their last chance to. Bound by silence they both walked back together. Nothing had changed. Neither the way he carefully guided her, nor the way he said so much without speaking. He led her through the gate, lifting the latch to gently swing it open and closed it after. The yellow light in the porch was warm and comforting. They were home. Finally. Years were just a number. They had changed nothing.
Posted on: Sun, 14 Dec 2014 18:36:02 +0000
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