Our Musings End

Hello, once again. This time, a little bit on the fence with this one off short story. Well, I mean I really liked the idea I had for this one, but I mean’t more for the release time of this short story. I usually try to keep a consistent rate of writing juice flowing at any given time, but that river has slowed. The draft is getting lighter, but the water is still there. It’s still rushing and roaring through, waves are crashing onto each other. But enough about silly analogies. Basically, I’ll probably (Unless I’m doing a short series, or restarting any series or doing anything related to the word series) stick to a few writing pieces a week. But I do have some cool ideas that I want to push through, and of course there is also the question of contest pieces which I will have to do on my own and keep to my self which will also cut into the time I get for pieces I write for fun, like this one. But anyway, enough about life-like things, here you go, “Our Musings End”.

Have you ever wondered what falling felt like?”

The man looked over to his companion. Perhaps it was the heat of summer, or even the misty look that he was given, that made him feel at ease. The woman beside the man turned her head over. Her white dress fluttered with the grass as she laid on her back. The woman used her eyes as a mean of communication, locking hers with his. She focused, and tried to read his iris, she tried to read into his mind, she tried to understand him. The man looked dumbfounded, staring at her green irises, unable to say a single word. It was as if he had found an emerald for the first time. His hands wanted to grasp onto that jewel, but he was afraid of it breaking. He was afraid of the fragility of such an object. He was unaware of how powerful such an object was however. He continued to look into her green eyes until his eyes began to wander.  He noticed that the red on her lips was more accentuated. Like the blood of the sky, he wanted to peer into unwavering territory, and discover all its secrets.

The frugality of the situation was that they were two lovers, staring into each other, searching for something, searching for an answer. A wave of heat slipped past them, but they remained unfazed. The soft touch of the grass lingered on their skin, but they took no heed. The man finally gave, and turned his attention to the sky, leaving his partner to do the same. He used one hand to point to a peculiar cloud floating above their heads. It was drifting off in a slow but steady pace. His fingers traced the clouds movements, until he finally spoke.

“I have. I’ve always wondered what falling felt like. After all, it’s not every day that you fall.” The woman turned her head over, her gaze fell to the side of the man’s head. But she could still see his face’s features. She didn’t speak, rather, she admired him.

“But, it’s not like we’re talking about falling from stairs or anything. No, that’s something we all experience at some point in our lives. But, it’s not every day that we get to feel what it is to fall from up there.” The man looked wistfully up into the sky. His hands could not touch the sky, nor could he jump and reach the sky, but a sensation of longing still presided within his fingers. The man’s eyes narrowed, and his lips pursed. His hand, now to his side, longed for that which it cannot reach. It is but a simple dream, to reach for the skies.

“The feeling of the wind on your face, the feeling of your body free falling. The feeling of freedom… is that it? Is that what falling felt like? Freedom?” The man stretched his arms and legs out on the grass, as if making a snow angel. The woman looked at him without usurping a single word.  She laid with him on the grass, her hands out stretched, almost touching his.

“You know, wouldn’t it be wonderful, if we could all touch the sky? It would be like, connecting our hearts. Under a single sky, under a single blue sky, we would all be there. United. But that’s not life is it? That’s fantasy.” The man turned his palms into a fist. He clutched his fists hard, almost hard enough to show bone.

“If we could all touch the sky, I wonder what we would think. Would it be mystical? Or would it be mundane? I kind of think it would be a little bit of both. It’s right there in your hands, but… so what? You have it now… it’s not that exciting anymore.” The man gave a small chuckle. The wind blew in his face again, but it was a summer wind, filled with nothing but scorch. He scoffed at the dry air that caressed his face. To his side, the woman grasped his hands with her own. Her hand felt cold, despite the dry winds. The man looked over, his hand still linked to hers.  The woman’s green eyes tore a hole in his. The woman didn’t speak a single word, but gave him a small smile.

“But, I don’t think falling is that easy. Falling might be freedom, but it’s hard to obtain freedom.” The woman brought her body forward, which, with her linked hand, also brought the man up. She leaned forward on her knees, her head resting on them. Her hair was still behind her, like a fragile glass, it looked like it would break if touched.  With her free hand, she picked up a strand of grass, like a straight petal, like a blade of green, and handed it to the man. The man accepted, and twirled the grass in his fingers.  The woman looked around her again, she found another strand of grass, picked it off, and pointed it at the man. The man smiled, knowing full well what she wanted, and wrapped his strand to hers. The pieces of grass began intertwining as the two had hoped. With their two hands still locked, and now their grass, in a knot of their own, the man spoke once again.

“I see. I never thought about it like that. Falling, is like making everything in you, become one. ” The man and woman played around with the knotted grass in their hands, until the woman jerked her hand back, breaking the knot. The shards of grass fell to the fields, and in their hands were now two halves of a whole.

“And before you know it, everything crumbles, the high ends, and you’re left falling into nothingness, right?” The man spoke to the woman, who was nodding her head to his explanation.

“I guess that works hand in hand with how I classify falling. I said it might be like freedom, and, freedom might be exactly that. It makes you whole, but soon, you crumble. We all do. It’s how it is. No matter how much we are given, we can’t help but choke in our own self-praise. ” The man looked into the woman’s green eyes, there was a hint of sadness within hers. As if what the man said, was like what she had in mind, but twisted with his own thoughts. It was something that frightened her. But she did not say a word, and only looked back at him.

“No, I guess I shouldn’t take freedom so lightly. After all, it’s nice to be free, isn’t it?” The man chuckled to himself, which led the woman to look at him with a confirming gaze. She let go of the man’s hands, and scurried the grass around them. After finding what she needed, she began using both of her hands, and, once her creation was complete, she handed it to the man. The man accepted it. In his hands were now a makeshift clover. It was strung together by pieces of grass, and finely knotted so that it would stay in place. It had four petals, the symbol of luck.

“Hah, okay, I see now.” The man started chuckling to himself. The woman gave him a warming smile. The man thought about it to himself, and then leaned back on his hands, so that he could stare up into the clouds again. The man did not wait for a verbal response, but instead continued his thought.

“Yeah, I guess this is also how you think, isn’t it? I should know. Falling isn’t just about being free. It isn’t about being one and crumbling either. Falling is a mix of all of them, yes, but really, it’s an embodiment of luck, right?” The woman nodded to his explanation.

“It’s about knowing when to stop, but not really being able to control it. It’s about experiencing something for the first time, and being lost in ecstasy, only to be driven by an uncontrollable force. You have no say in what happens, the only thing you can do is enjoy the ride.  That’s the nature of falling. You can engage in it, yes, but can you really do anything past that? You’re swept up before you can do anything.”  The woman got up from her position and began dusting off the dirt and grass from her dress. The man sat with the clover in his hands, twirling it and examining it. Finally, he gave a small smile, and placed it back onto the grass. He looked over to his partner, who was now standing with her hands behind her back, staring up into the sky. The wind blew, and it fluttered her hair.

“But, it’s quite hard to pin exactly how you feel on the subject. Freedom, luck, all these feelings are about falling. It’s hard, and it’s complicated. Don’t you wish there was an easier way to explain this?” The woman turned towards the man. She was looking down on him, but as she realized this, looked away. Her eyes turned to the ground, and the man could read them despite the aversion. He knew all too well. The woman then reached out to give the man her hand, while looking straight at him; the wind blew, and her hair was blowing into her face. She used her free hand to keep her hair from bothering her, and as the man accepted her hand, he realized something. Now on his feet, and staring into his partners eyes, he realized something. He gave himself a small grin as he saw what she wanted to tell him. Even if she wanted to, her words alone probably couldn’t have given him the same sense of understanding. It was all up to something more internal. Something that only they could establish.

“Yeah, you got that right. The easiest way to explain this. The easiest way to explain falling, would be to simply call it, a dream.” The man traced his hands over to the woman’s, finding common ground and linking together.

“Even this, is all like a dream; being out here.” The woman smiled at him, and so did he. He looked up into the sky, and wondered what it would be like to experience a dream. Perhaps, it would be vivid chalk.

 

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