December 28, 2010

Within the Walking Distance


So cold.

Tiny speckles of those white flakes keep pouring down and melts as they touch the virgin ground. She gazes from the pane of her own pied-à-terre, eyes rest on a murky yet seemingly warm room across.

"Farewell."

Bitter smile carves on her face. Reaching for her long black trench coat, she heads out towards the road reservedly as a mule. The night befalls darker, not a trace of shadow but her own keeping her company.

Ah... So long has this flee become?

Her long legs sullen from the walk, she leans on the sleeping old cedar, facing the frozen lake. So sombre the moon beams her remaining lights before she too, falls asleep like the old cedar. Chafing her cheeks for heat, her eyes and thoughts still forlorn.

"Why do you have to stay so vivid in me?"

Tears break from the pond of her eyelids. One must remained enemy, one is destined to be enemy, the words of her forefathers bleed her ears. A gush of warm wind touches her back. Viciously she stands, immobilising the hand of the dark tall figure behind her. But it is his, first seizing her right hand and rest it on his chest. This warmth, she knows it.

"Because your heart belongs to me, for it is mine, that belongs to you."

A slight of the moon's gleam falls onto him, revealing his slate grey hair and crimson red left eye.
Him. The dweller of that inviting room, the dweller of her whole being.


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