con temporary .

uninspired on a summer’s night, she watches the lights outside her window and waits for time to pass away. the walls whisper words they shouldn’t, and the ceiling hums tunes that start with love songs and finish with photographic memories of pain.

when the sun rises in the morning perfection becomes too difficult to maintain, and she seeks shelter from it because she cannot bear being enveloped in the light. as she searches for her safety, he tries to find her, and they run through a maze with only right turns while he chases and she flees.

slowly the distance closes up because of the impracticality of her shoes, and they stand face to face, not knowing if the familiarity was comforting or disconcerting.

his body dances in the soft light, towards and away from her, teasing her gently, rhythmically. her toes step out of the shoes and onto the rocky gravel, but his presence is so intoxicating that she can’t feel the pain. attempting to respond, she performs a series of awkward movements; knees and elbows flailing and arms swaying systematically. he stands behind her to guide her movements, making them smoother, more beautiful. they dance pressed against each other, perfectly in step, her long white dress blurring their figures as it twirls.

for almost eternity by her count they’re linked together. until he pushes her to the floor. she grazes her knee and the music in their heads comes to a shuddering stop.

he looks down at her and senses that she’s hurt. she looks up at him and wonders why he let go. the blood on her knee stains her dress, but she uses it to stem the flow. it stops within seconds, and she can almost stand up. she wobbles a little but refuses his hand, and starts to walk away.

and he tells her that it’s too dangerous for her to love him, and she laughs and tells him that she never did.

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    • Kevin
    • December 1st, 2010

    Like it. One of my favourite stories.

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