AMONG THE CHILDISH MEMORY OF RAINDROPS

“Secret”. Our favourite word. Is our only escape you said. Hiding and laughing in the sun, among the butterflies on the green field, among the flowers. Children, is what we were. Two children, barefoot playing in the sun. Felt like the birth of a new god had begun. Running, forgetting where we have left our homes…feeling the wind brushing my hair. I should have thought twice. Running and forgetting didn’t suppose to drive on the same side of the road. I feel the wind brushing my hair again but doesn’t feel that safe anymore.

That secret…our secret? Hm. Mother told me once the story of this word: “raindrops on your shoulders”. And so it was. You, digging a hole between our feet, me…staring at it, staring in the black hole and putting to sleep those moments. Our moments? Raindrops on my shoulders. So I did nothing but took our secret to an end, so I sat on  the green field. No wait! It was yellowish, I forgot you’re gone. It all started with one small tear on my right cheek, than another, just as little as the first followed and so those tiny dancers from my eyes began to walz. After their dance was over, I stood up, trying to find a light to guide me back home. I couldn’t find any. Oh, not the lights you little girl, I said, but the pieces of bread you’ve strewed on the path is what you must follow. Of course, couldn’t find those either. Oh you little b*****d, you knew exactly what you were doing! So I tried to contact my eternal friend and so I said: Heart? Are you there? I’m lost. Tell me a way out of this disgraceful imaginary frost. But she stood there in my chest in silence. So I started to walk in the darkness, singing to the cold so it won’t hurt me. Walking and walking, feeling the raindrops on my shoulders heavier than ever. Suddenly steps I heard behind my back. I walk faster. Steps I heard behind my back, thoughts of fear pierced through my breath. I looked back, saw a feminine shadow trying to reach me. I tried to get it out of my head. My mind must have been created it. Faster, faster, I said to myself. I looked back again. Nothing was there. I stumbled. I fell with my hands in the mud. I tried to keep my tiny dancers in but my fears, the dark, EVERYTHING was so heavy I couldn’t rise up, like a force kept pushing me down, wanting my face kiss the ground.

 My dancers wanted to dance. I wouldn’t held them down, but just when I decided to put my hope on a razor’s edge, I felt a warm touch on my right shoulder, an unmistakable touch. Grandma? I mumbled. “take my hand dear, it’s alright”I heard. Indeed, grandma it was. She took my hands, pulled me up than gently kissed my forehead and brought my head closed to her heart.

Reviews

[WillowWhisper]

Beautiful, i'm left speechless.

[Steph K]

In a simple word. This is beautiful. Sometimes you find work that keeps you truly lost for words. Thank you.

[w2de35657u687y4324rf]

" I feel the wind brushing my hair again but doesn’t feel that safe anymore."
I know that feeling, exactly. It is a morbid and breathtaking idea; it feels like dying. That first paragraph definitely held me to the work. The vivid imagery and emotional connections made there were wonderous. That first paragraph was the highlight of my night.
"You, digging a hole between our feet, me…staring at it, staring in the black hole and putting to sleep those moments. Our moments?"
This was another magical line for me. Not as good as the first one, but still enjoyable. The image of the black hole that I had was more than just a dark space, but a grotesque swirl of mud and chunks clawed and thrown by child's hands. Then the part about "between our feet" was really good, too. I could see the shoes and all above the hole which added another dimension to the story. The hole became something human and threatening with those lines. Wonderful
Your conclusion was quite unsettling. It was, at least, completely unexpected.
This was a nice piece in all. Good work.

[Bone and Brine]

This is very good. I really enjoyed reading this.

I have a habit of playing songs whilst reading stories by different writers on this site. I had Lullaby by Juno Reactor playing while I was reading. Gorgeous story.