I stood there, holding the solid railings, trying to catch the last rays of the sun suspended over the lonely valley. The wind swept across the mountains, making wild noises, untamed and carefree.
Once pale blue, the sky was now lit up like a bride. In ridiculous hues of crimson – the color of my tears. Somehow, this blatant display of beauty seared through my heart. They are all in pairs aren’t they? The sun and the sky. The mountains and the valley. While I stand here, looking down at the point that consumed my other half.
Today, the valley donned a sinister look as shadows slowly crept in. Inviting. Peaceful too, maybe. The call of the void – I remember you talking about it. The pull of Earth slowly blanked my thoughts, filling it with whispers of the wind. Was it cajoling me into doing the unthinkable? And among those stormy whispers, I heard your voice. Like, I always do. Echoing through the trees, the valley, the non challant mountains.
I glimpsed at the horizon, just in time to see the last hint of sun dipping behind.
In a moment, the sun was gone. You were gone.
All that was now left was an extremely joyous sky decked in the colors of the universe. And I, stuck in sepia memories, frozen in time.
I spent 3 hours at night trying to write a fiction, but could not even come up with a proper plot. And today in the train, just like that this came to me. The story is the result of strange workings of the brain.
L’appel du vide – a french term for the call of the void.
Pictures clicked at Blue Mountains, Sydney
You can find more fiction here – Short Stories
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