contemplation
the transition had occured so subtly she only realised afterward.
Initially it had been seventy-thirty. thirty on her side. then sixty-fourty and - briefly - to fifty-fifty. All too quickly, the tables had turned and they had flipped sides. It slided to fourty-sixty. Now, finally, she could no longer place a number to the vague haziness: the remains of what had been a treasured relationship. A trust and a bond. An envied sister, a surrogate mother and then, shamefully, a lover. She had tiptoed around the special bond they held, tentative, frightful yet exhilarated. Too soon, the star that had shined so brightly exploded, throwing stardust into the air, a lesser incarnation barely keeping its dull shine.
ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Slowly, she traced lines on the metal ashtray that she had always hated, running through the dust absentmindedly. Smoking was one vice she had learnt to tolerate but it seemed her tolerance had begun to run dry. Dust had accumulated atop the abandoned ashtray and she realised how laughable her actions were: creating marks by removing. falsifying presence by removing absence.
She looked down at the ashtray and was startled for a moment. She had not been drawing random lines afterall. The deep recesses of her mind had guided her slender index finger to trace out four alphabets, carefuly and deliberately. She stared at the name, unfamiliar yet she felt a certain longing from within her heart. It was the name of the boy she had just met. each letter distinct and separate from the other, formed out of nothingness...
Initially it had been seventy-thirty. thirty on her side. then sixty-fourty and - briefly - to fifty-fifty. All too quickly, the tables had turned and they had flipped sides. It slided to fourty-sixty. Now, finally, she could no longer place a number to the vague haziness: the remains of what had been a treasured relationship. A trust and a bond. An envied sister, a surrogate mother and then, shamefully, a lover. She had tiptoed around the special bond they held, tentative, frightful yet exhilarated. Too soon, the star that had shined so brightly exploded, throwing stardust into the air, a lesser incarnation barely keeping its dull shine.
ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Slowly, she traced lines on the metal ashtray that she had always hated, running through the dust absentmindedly. Smoking was one vice she had learnt to tolerate but it seemed her tolerance had begun to run dry. Dust had accumulated atop the abandoned ashtray and she realised how laughable her actions were: creating marks by removing. falsifying presence by removing absence.
She looked down at the ashtray and was startled for a moment. She had not been drawing random lines afterall. The deep recesses of her mind had guided her slender index finger to trace out four alphabets, carefuly and deliberately. She stared at the name, unfamiliar yet she felt a certain longing from within her heart. It was the name of the boy she had just met. each letter distinct and separate from the other, formed out of nothingness...
