A Perfect Memory

Tonight was different.

I closed my eyes and the silver moonlight glazed beneath my eyelids. It was getting harder to remember all the details, but one day, one perfect day remained etched in my mind. It was time. And I was going to put things right for us.

There had been a day when we had wandered through fields of clove, bathed in birdsong. The day was warm and uncertain. Spring sunlight seeped through rain-soaked leaves and the air was blurred and pungent with blossom, earth and damp. The space between us was charged with poignancy that lay in long-forgotten cities.

We came into an overgrown garden, starred pink with wildflowers. Springstruck, I moved, tranced through exotic scents that seemed so familiar yet unknown. A house was soon discovered at the top of the garden. Above the porch an odd rectangle of brickwork remained bare, shadowed by faint markings that looked like runes.

I drew closer to the ancient drawings. Letting my fingers run over the etchings, almost smoothed over by Time. “What IS this place?” I wondered aloud.

“It’s been here forever. I come down here to be with myself at times.” He replied.

Inside was a dusty rocking chair, ancient as its surroundings, and paintings of unknown people smiled at me from all directions. He pulled a footstool forward and placed it in front of the rocking chair.

I looked at him questioningly. “I want to paint your feet.” Then he bent down to untie my violet sandals....
                                        ***

I opened my eyes. The Moon had disappeared. Shane was dead now. I wish I had inherited a cold, passionless nature that would help me put it all behind and move on. I did have a powerful longing to pack my bags and never return. But here I was again.

I rocked slowly back and forth on the ancient rocking chair. Every creak made me more numb. I turned the lighter over between my fingers. What was I thinking? Shane would have never wanted this. But Shane was gone now and I did not care what he thought anymore.

Time stood still. And still I stared down at the death-tool in my fingers. “Toils of enchantment” I said. Then I put the lighter down and walked into the night.

The stars screamed silently at me.

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Jan 2010