Pickles.

All those prayers whispered in silent, early hours, and still you turned out to be another goodbye.

Farewell, then, to you, your name, and everything it entailed. Welcome, welcome, to the end of every line we had ever written.

Farewell, then, to you and your name. ————————— ***3:37 am, Sunday, 10 July 2016***

Clad in mud-smeared boots, he ran across the open, darkening field. Before him were graying skies, angry clouds that refused to yield.

Stride unbreaking, he neared the prize guarded by the calm, the quiet, and the bright. With the thunder’s wail and the wind’s howl, he marched gladly into the fading light.

Gray faded into black as he stepped inside the living, breathing storm. He watched the tempest unfold and envelop the landscape in its form.

Time after time, she finds herself on Death’s porch, banging his door with the desperation of a broken mind, demanding passage to his home.

But alas, Death could only gaze disdainfully upon the wayward soul, who thought herself to be worthy of his black embrace.

And so, she sits on the steps of his home, facing the sunset she wishes she couldn’t live to see, waiting for Death’s doors to open for her empty, bloodied soul.

-----------------------------------

Nine minutes to four in the lightless morning, but they were not lost in their own dreams. No, they were wide awake, pouring truths and secrets into each other’s cups, with intoxication seeping quietly into their heads. Perhaps, all was well after all, in that one moment when they sat and talked on the world’s bedside as it slept.

-------------------------------------------------------

And when I think of the time I stared down a barrel of steel and oblivion, ready to float away with the shotgun shells towards the crumpled skies, I wonder if I should have pulled the trigger instead.

You sound like the words of a heartfelt prayer, the kind that echoes in the corners of churches and bedrooms, waiting to be answered by fate.

So, every night, amid the stillness of the world, I will pray, to angels and their wings, to saints and their rings, and hope that the fates hear the wish of an adoring sinner. —————————

I do not think it would matter if you turned out to be poison to my lips, when I had been choking on my own blight long before I knew your name.

I will drink you in; I will feel you rushing in my throat, tracing lines of bliss and agony until I tremble and shiver at the sweetness of your toxicity.

“Why do   your words     feel like freezing rain       at five-thirty         in the afternoon?”           She asked.

“Perhaps,   it is to     cover up       the scorching grief         fraying my lungs.”           He answered.

A pause.

“Would you let anyone,   anyone at all,     pass through       your frozen walls?”

A smile.

Let the stars trapped in the walls bear witness to our fire. Let them watch, let them watch, let our reflection writhe in heaven’s eyes. Let our gleam smother theirs, let it pierce through the great dark.

And as the start ends, and the next lines unfold,

We were nothing but a fallacy I failed to prove, nothing but a dream I failed to move.

You were nothing but a delusion I tried to feed, a grey mess of lines I tried to read.

I was nothing but a promise you refused to keep, an oath of faith you refused to reap.                                       Had you stayed                                       for a few more years,                                       I'd write more metaphors                                       for us, my dear.

                                      But alas,                                       these will have to do.                                       Let me close the door                                       with a few last truths.

               Our names                were nothing,

                        nothing,

Epilogue

4:00 pm. The sun's glare struck my eyes, but it was the least of my concerns at that moment. It seemed as if I was flung back to a distant, forgotten past in a blink. Memories flooded my head; emotions from then and now fought for dominance over the other. I struggled to form an expression of candid surprise. However, I saw my fingers trembling at the corner of my eyes. Apprehensively, I met her gaze with a smile.

"Fancy seeing you here again!" My tone was of cool detachment.

"Oh my God!" Her delicate hands covered her mouth, her eyes shining with genuine shock.

There was a pause. We simply stood there. She was almost gawking at me, at a loss for words. I was no different; I felt my smile faltering.

I broke the silence.

"Been fourteen years, and all you can say is 'Oh my God?' I was kinda expecting more, you know." I jeered amicably.

It seemed to break her out of her stupor. "No, no. It's just that you're the last person I'd expect seeing here. I thought you'd moved to..."

I cut her off swiftly. "Well, yes and no. I did move, but that doesn't mean I would be rooted there for life, yes?"

"I see. On vacation, then? Weird choice, I must say." She was smiling now. Inwardly, I agreed with her opinion.

"You know me. My heart lies with all these sands." I bit my tongue. Why did I say something like that?

She showed no sign of recognition at my words.

5:00 pm. I sipped at my cappuccino. My thoughts were still a jumbled mess of sentiments; it seemed as if I was feeling everything and nothing at the same time. I averted my eyes from her. Through the tinted glass walls, I saw the city tinged with orange; the desert sun was starting to die down in the afternoon.

She sat opposite to me, her face dimly glowing with the light of her phone. After a few button presses, she laid her phone down, screen faced up, on the coffee table. As she held her own drink close to her lips, I stole a glance from her phone. She had a picture as her wallpaper.

She was her old, sweet self at the camera, arms wrapped warmly around someone. They were both smiling, eyes glinting with joy and contentment.

In a quick motion, she reached for her phone and turned it face down. "So, I guess you just had to keep returning to this place, huh." She casually grinned at me.

"Well, I figured that if I'm going to spend a vacation, might as well be someplace that means much to me. No sense spending too much just to get lost in some backwater." I chuckled as I gestured at the glass walls.

"Yes, I suppose that's just right." She nodded.

We lapsed into a lengthy silence. She was looking at the glass walls, as if transfixed. Sunlight caressed her features, illuminating half of her face. I fought to keep my eyes off her. I feared that the sight would awaken some long-dead feeling. I silently muttered a curse at my own cowardice.

"Hey. what's with the hush? You're technically my host, after all. Be the chatty one, please." I joked.

It seemed to shake her out of her reverie. "...sorry. I was just thinking."

"...of?"

"Remember the last time we met?"

As if I could actually forget that, I thought. "Of course, what about it?"

"Aren't you mad at me?"

The question stunned me. Was I angry at her? For the past years, I had carried anguish with me, filling every corner of my brain when the memories surfaced. Each day had been a walk in darkness. But at some point, it had begun to fade; every bit of the pain and rage that grew to define me, had slowly drained off to nothing. It had frightened me when I had finally noticed. Who am I now? Who am I supposed to be? I remembered asking myself.

I decided to finally answer that question.

I looked at her, straight into her eyes. Thankfully, she did not look away. All those years did nothing to her radiance; she still shone as bright as the morning, as bright as all those past mornings we spent together.

In those few seconds, I felt nothing. I knew then that the woman in front of me, was and will always be, nothing more than a pleasant memory that would stay with me for the rest of my days; a memory of the sun that once showed me light.

"No, I'm not mad at you."

"Really?"

"Look, our days are long over. We had a great run, yes. But I guess that's all it would ever be." I felt a genuine smile spread on my face.

She fell silent, but her eyes were afire with words. I returned her gaze, my own eyes simply repeating what I have said. It finally dawned on me. It was a realization that I gladly embraced.

I don't need to walk in my own darkness anymore; I'll just have to be my own sun.

"Thank you. For everything." She whispered. Her voice was barely audible, but steady.

"Thank you. Thank you." I replied.

5:30 pm. We sat there, smiling. Outside, the light was visibly fading; the sun was finally setting to rest.

"That reminds me. How about you give the old pals a ring? See if they're up for a little surprise." I said, reverting to my casual, cool demeanor.

"You paying? Let's not waste our time here." Her challenging tone was playful.

"Tell you what, let's see how many would show up, then we'll negotiate the terms." I laughed.

She grinned widely. "Still crafty as ever. You'd see how much has changed here when they all come."

"You should probably bring me up to speed, then." I slouched in my chair.

"Where to start, where to start...you still remember our classmate who was always fiddling with his Rubik's cube, even during class?" It felt like we were about to go into a long-winded conversation.

Some things never change, I suppose, I thought, remembering another scene from an older time.

"No, not really. But go ahead, tell me a story."

———————————————————————————————-

Thursday, 25 September 2014

*Turns out I still have an idea for an epilogue for Girl from the Dunes. I do not consider this a part of the 'trilogy' for a simple reason: this entry is purely fictional and was not based on true events. Let's just say that this entry is what I imagine would happen if we ever meet again. I know I've said this in Barren Sky, but this will truly be the last entry for Girl from the Dunes.*

Part 1: Desert Sun

Part 2: Sandstorm

Part 3: Barren Sky