“this whole romance you’ve invented just proves you’re too naïve…why would he like you?”– Mother Knows Best (Reprise)
THE STARS SPARKLE in the blue ink-spilled sky, as the dusk is swallowed by the waves. Black ripples slip against the shore like ebony silk. Behind, are the shadows of the trees, bushy heads wriggling over the indigo grass atop the cliffs.
A terrible pain in her heart swallows her thoughts as effortlessly as the waves do to the sun. The ache is surprisingly vibrant, as if something has broken inside her. It feels as if a chunk has been cut away, leaving a gaping wound behind, and she cannot find the medicine to heal it.
She has sat in the confiding darkness of the forest to cry at the agony, but one of her crewmates, the youngest of them and a doctor, found her. He claimed she had to heal herself because there was no cure he could give her; because he could not stand to see someone in pain.
Hanging her head in her hands, she knows – how deeply she knows– that she is causing a scene. There is nothing to be sad for and even less to cry for. She has lost nothing, and yet somehow…under the light of the stars and the sight of the sea, she can only cry like a withering flower.
Written: 14 February 2012
Word Count: 222
Inspired: by feelings.