58: Sombre Blues (drabble)

58: Sombre Blues (drabble) 

She sat at the edge of the pier admiring the slow ripples across the lake’s surface. As she swung her legs, she looked up and realised that the world was shrouded in a monotonous colour: a sombre blue, mixed with grey teardrops from the heavens above.

Both of them used to come to this spot regularly and skip stones together. As they watched the stones bounce across the surface, they’d talk of the past. They’d talk about former lovers, problems at home, problems with each other, fantasies, hopes, dreams. They’d talk about a lot of things as the sky darkened and cloaked them in the shared melancholia they had with each other.

A sad frown decorated her face, became the prominent feature on her face. Ever since his death, she had found it hard to come to this place alone. All of a sudden the place didn’t hold the same meaning without him. She continued to appreciate the natural beauty of her surroundings, but not with as much zeal as she had when she had been with him. Somehow she had lost the ability to skip stones as well as she had with him.

For the first few days, all she could do was sit in her room and reminisce, reflect, grieve. It had been hard on her. Her stomach had recognised the loss and so shut itself off from her. Her writing became darker in mood and characters lost their lives in short scenes.

She had not taken it very well. In the process she had made herself ill with grief. It was only when she had seemingly heard his voice urge her to eat that her stomach reawakened and begged her for food that she had put the first morsel of food in her mouth. It had been sweet, a familiar taste in her mouth, a longing which had washed over her. For a few minutes she had put her grief aside. And for those few minutes, she learned to love again; she learned to be happy again.

Back to the present, she was unable to comprehend how the sombre blue had quickly become a shade of dark ocean blue. How time seemed to fly for her now, but had mercilessly stopped for her when she had been grieving. Time was strange. So was the human experience. Had she ever had the effort to contemplate these things when he was alive? Perhaps not. She doesn’t know.

As her eyes raked over the cold diminishing shades of blue, she swung her legs a few more times before she stood upright from the pier and began to walk away.

Somehow it symbolised to her that she was walking away from the past, walking away from her old memories, walking away from her grief…

Walking away from him.


~ Serendipitous

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