Click here for this weeks challenge, which included photographs from the Ligo Festival. I chose these two as my prompt.
As the sun sets, dispersing the last of day’s light through tree branches that glow like a fire’s last embers, her mind drifts. It wanders back to a fire from a year ago, one around which they sat together, getting to know one another amidst sounds of flames crackling and snapping. A spark lit in her which burns deep even tonight, 365 moons later. But she knows it will soon dissipate. There’s just no other way.
The wind whistles through tree branches, a sad tune, mournful and melancholy, although to another set of ears, a set with hopes alive and dreams fulfilled, the song might be a serenade, maybe even a love song. But not to her. It sounds like a distant wail, and yet it is too close. Like it comes from within her. It does.
For almost a year, they exchanged letters, leading up to this year’s reunion. But in the weeks prior, his correspondence fell silent, her mailbox empty, and now, the festival almost over, she has not seen him and knows with empty certainty he will not come.
Last year, they grasped hands, running crazy, love-struck through the fire, and she felt her feet’s soles lofted on air, her heart alight, her mind spinning with thoughts past, present, and future. They made a connection, forged over those magical days. Something more than friendship, though she hesitated naming it, despairing it might evaporate before her. And rightly so it seems.
And as the sun finishes its descent into the arms of the forest’s trees, hope tucks itself into her heart, where it will harden and darken, never to flow with love’s blood again. She stands alone in the encroaching darkness, empty arms reaching for a body that will never be there.
breeze dances through the treetops
memories surface, alive and vibrant
reality snuffs them as night does to day