Cynthia (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} cynthia_lynthia) wrote,@ 2005-06-11 19:11:00 |
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I'm in the process of posting the stories I wrote over the past few months and didn't post because I was lazy.
They met in early summer, when the first of the summer flowers were beginning to push up from the earth, seeking sunlight. He found in her intensity and passion for life excitement, she found in him everything she’d ever hoped for. A handful of dinners, half as many walks in the park, and she had a ring.
Written Winter 2004
He told himself he loved Jamie, but all too soon he found he loved Brooke more. He left on a grey day in mid-November, when the sun had gone to seek warmer places and the trees were black and bare. Jamie got into the habit of crying herself to sleep each night.
Mara knew about him – Jamie had told her all of it.
“The pain will go away,” Mara insisted gently. “Not now, maybe not soon, but someday you will wake up and find that the hurt is there no longer.”
But Jamie didn’t hear Mara, wasn’t soothed. She cried until all her tears were gone, and then she cried some more.
Autumn became winter. The ground hardened and froze, and the tree-branches creaked and snapped beneath the weight of the ice they bore. Jamie stopped calling Mara.
After winter came spring, and the melting of the ice. Mara watched as water ran from the trees and turned the ground muddy. Soon, the first flowers began to appear. Jamie didn’t seem to see them.
Before another summer had passed Jamie moved to a different town.
“I can’t stay here anymore,” she told Mara. Her face was grey and lined with pain. She didn’t meet Mara’s eyes. “I see him everywhere I look.”
She was gone by the next morning. Mara called silently after her to wait – to stay and watch the roses bloom – but Jamie couldn’t hear her.
More springs came and went, and more winters did too. When Mara next saw Jamie many years had passed. Jamie was older, and there were more lines in her face – though some of these, now, were laugh lines.
“What happened?” Mara asked.
Jamie smiled – a happy smile, though it was a smile that showed as much experience with pain as joy.
“I watched the roses bloom,” said Jamie simply, and suddenly Mara knew what it was she was seeing in Jamie’s smile – wisdom. There were oceans of wisdom in Jamie now, wisdom that had never been there before. “I found my spring.”
They met in early summer, when the first of the summer flowers were beginning to push up from the earth, seeking sunlight. He found in her intensity and passion for life excitement, she found in him everything she’d ever hoped for. A handful of dinners, half as many walks in the park, and she had a ring.
Written Winter 2004
He told himself he loved Jamie, but all too soon he found he loved Brooke more. He left on a grey day in mid-November, when the sun had gone to seek warmer places and the trees were black and bare. Jamie got into the habit of crying herself to sleep each night.
Mara knew about him – Jamie had told her all of it.
“The pain will go away,” Mara insisted gently. “Not now, maybe not soon, but someday you will wake up and find that the hurt is there no longer.”
But Jamie didn’t hear Mara, wasn’t soothed. She cried until all her tears were gone, and then she cried some more.
Autumn became winter. The ground hardened and froze, and the tree-branches creaked and snapped beneath the weight of the ice they bore. Jamie stopped calling Mara.
After winter came spring, and the melting of the ice. Mara watched as water ran from the trees and turned the ground muddy. Soon, the first flowers began to appear. Jamie didn’t seem to see them.
Before another summer had passed Jamie moved to a different town.
“I can’t stay here anymore,” she told Mara. Her face was grey and lined with pain. She didn’t meet Mara’s eyes. “I see him everywhere I look.”
She was gone by the next morning. Mara called silently after her to wait – to stay and watch the roses bloom – but Jamie couldn’t hear her.
More springs came and went, and more winters did too. When Mara next saw Jamie many years had passed. Jamie was older, and there were more lines in her face – though some of these, now, were laugh lines.
“What happened?” Mara asked.
Jamie smiled – a happy smile, though it was a smile that showed as much experience with pain as joy.
“I watched the roses bloom,” said Jamie simply, and suddenly Mara knew what it was she was seeing in Jamie’s smile – wisdom. There were oceans of wisdom in Jamie now, wisdom that had never been there before. “I found my spring.”
