Silhouettes (The reflection, Part II)

Still very much a work in progress

 

“Experience is the name we give to our past mistakes” – Oscar Wilde, Irish Poet

 

The door slammed shut upon her exit. A plaque with the Chinese symbol for ‘serenity’ fell to the floor and shattered. The heat she left in the room was still present, although dissipating. I sat on the sofa, staring at my reflection in a 4X6 photo frame of a picture of her and I. I felt that the only idea I had of love, was only knowing what love wasn’t. This was pain, suffering, this was merely and absence of love. My reflection stared back at me between the plastic borders of the photo frame. I could see the water glistening from my eyes, but I could not see the color. Only grey in my eyes. I then focused on the images captured. Her and I, sunset, waves, the ocean, the beach. She smiled through her dark glasses with her right arm securing me next to her. A smile had been absent from my face, as though the ocean breeze blurred my lips from becoming clear in the picture. Although we seemed happy, although she seemed stable, looking at this picture, I knew different then the cameras eye had captured.

 

In the winter night sky, stars seem much more clear to me. At least this time they did. The ground was frozen. The trees stood frail, blended against the night sky. I attempted to find relief in the cold air. Her fury had seared me. I felt as if the winter air sizzled my skin, much like a burning match being extinguished in a puddle of water. I focused on my hot breath as it left my lungs and out through my mouth into the cold air. Puffs of white, like the old steam trains in the 19^th century. Every exhale like another release of pressure. I tried to shake her burnt image in my mind. Her words. Her spite. Her lies. Maybe I had found a certain comfort in that familiar pain? I thought I had been made accustomed to it. Canadian geese flew into the lake in front of me and landed softly in the freezing water. I have seen these geese in the springtime, landing the same way in the same lake. Adapting, much like the way my heart has, to the relevant conditions. Certainly, however, these geese would find more comfort in less frigid waters. This image froze me and I left the cold to seek refuge. My mind still had not freed from the pain, but my head would clear. I headed home.

 

There is a moment just before I fall asleep. Eyelids closed. Pure darkness.Sound funnels and my body goes limp. There is a moment of consciousness. A moment where all my questions are answered. A moment of clarity in which I could hold on to, if not for more than a second. That is when I feel at peace. As I drifted off I tried hard to hold on to this serenity.  

Reviews

[Wildfleour]

Those moments of clarity are so rare and so precious. I believe they are gifts meant to be fleeting; if they stayed, they would lose their magic and meaning.

[Glamorous Eyes]

The way you write really draws me into what you are trying to convey to the reader, feelings, images, or anything else. I can feel every emotion and think every thought you write about. Its amazing!

[justjenn_2u]

With the close of the door, serenity no longer prevails. Speaking of defining love from not knowing what love is, too often have I experienced. A foothold masking true emotions.

A picture can paint a thousand words, fool the human eyes. You use proverbial words here.

The closure shows strength in holding onto your serenity. Serenity contains hope. Without hope, we have nothing!

[Kasey Klein]

great line:
I felt that the only idea I had of love, was only knowing what love wasn't.

cameras eye (camera's)

In the winter night sky, stars seem much more clear to me. At least this time they did. The ground was frozen. The trees stood frail, blended against the night sky.

I like the way you paint her fire, hot, and seeking relief in the cold.

I like the overall piece. It's a good portrait.

I did find the substitution of semicolons for commas a bit distracted -- that's just my opinion.