09.23.08
In Between Seasons
Chilly gales that puffed nostalgia and a fulmination of meridian sun left her in a lustrous stupefaction. Even in the dual-seasoned climate, the rock itself respired autumnal whispers and the grains of sand breathed their silent sighs through contagion. On that rock, at that exact point of time, autumn must have begun, for she was confounded not only by the might of nature, but by the unbearable burden of memory.
He [who embodied the sum of her past, present, and future hopes] taught her to be solitary more than one ever thought possible, and through that, bestowed upon her strength and profundity. “She looks like a poem,” someone once spake of her, and yet she would never be more beautiful than when she was alone on that rock where summer and autumn kissed – one season greeting the other, one season bidding farewell.
