stardustinoureyes
In the stillness of the aftermath, she could only hear her heart beating. Louder, and louder. Like some distant drum. Maybe it was calling her home. Maybe it was encouraging her to dance. She knelt on the ground and listened. Somewhere, high above, a bird sang out and she couldn't tell if it was a cry of desperation or hope.
Value are such an interesting thing. They change so frequently. Sometimes I sit an wonder how my values would be changed if I had grown up in a different state, in a home that wasn't broken, or with another family entirely. Yeah, values are weird.
Reconstruction always begins slowly. It's like the seasons changing. The winter has to melt away, the sun has to start warming the Earth again. Hope has to grow and be new. Otherwise, nothing else can grow.
They sit around and talk of nothings. Empty spaces where words should be. Fools in academic clothing. Nothing ever said or done. Not truly. Progress lost for sake of words. Progress made for sake of loss. Somewhere, new fools rise. Fools, or champions?
Desolation, isolation. Barren fields that were once full of hopes and dreams now diminished and full only of squalor. This is the wreckage and aftermath. Someday soon, a child will come along and plant a lonely seed. Just a tiny seed of hope. But that seed will be the only chance of saving anything.
The secluded room was quiet, just what the doctor order. By doctor, of course she meant editor. Less than twelve hours left before her deadline. 12 more hours of insanity before just could breathe and rest again. She looked out the window at the softly falling snow before once again, sitting at her laptop to stare at the screen.
The neon sign flickered in the window. I paused. It wasn't that the store looked bad it was just... more sketchy than I would have liked. Still, I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. A small bell dinged and the girl at the counter looked up at me with a face that screamed bored. "Welcome to Brookfields Bookfields. How can I help you?"
"You're so oblique!" she shouted, storming off in a rage. I sat there quietly. There wasn't anything for me to say, nothing I could do to lessen her pain as much as I might want to. The worst part was that the way she thought of me was so very far from the truth.
I delve deeper into my memories, immediately wishing I hadn't. Have you ever had the feeling you know the way something is going to end? Even then I knew. Though, of course, hindsight is 20/20 and the visions we sometimes have of the future are always a bit cloudy.
The illusion shattered, crashing around her feet. Nothing would ever again be as it once was, who knows what it could be. Shattered like glass and the fragile dreams she has set for her future. Gone. In one swift motion, not unlike a bandaid being ripped away from an already hurting heart, tearing away bits of skin that were in the process of mending.
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