‘It’s because I can’t reach,’ she revealed behind dark eyelashes, the only curtain remaining.
He watched her shift and wondered if it seemed as loud to any of the others. Hungry admirers awaiting the next act. He was tired of the play. He wished she would lift the curtain.
The breath of summer on her dry skin left her longing for the winter walks she spent seasons awaiting. Safety within steps too cold to often be considered.
‘I just thought you might want to change,’ he said and the single syllable of each word spoken shattered her splintered heart. She wished her words might extend further… that she could turn herself up.
When he walked away she stopped trying. She stopped stretching and barely went outside, not even when the temperature was below zero and she was confident she’d… freeze.
He wrapped his world in laughter that never sounded as funny, to him. But he smiled just as wide; he looked people in the eye.
She taught herself to crochet and started to make scarves and blankets, things to protect people from the coldness she craved. No one ever queried her colour choice, reds and yellows – the occasional orange. Brighter, lighter shades to absorb the force.
Days and weeks and months passed and he never bothered to ask. He saw her on the sidewalk two autumns later.
She didn’t look up.
She was wearing a new sweater.
burntblue 27 days ago
i like the ending very much.. this piece has a lovely melancholy to it. Nice!
gretchen . replied 27 days ago
thank you blue! melancholy is a frequent reality too often overlooked…
exposedbutloved 27 days ago
wonderful work there sister
i love the ending though i do wonder why she craves the cold… i do enjoy the cold more then heat so i can understand to an extent.. but still.. i shall ponder
gretchen . replied 24 days ago
cheers beautiful… there’s nothing a writer can ask for more then one to ponder words… xoxo
Normaje 27 days ago
VERY TOUCHING OF A LOVE OF A BEING, ALSO THE SHYNESS OF THE LITTLE ONE,
VERY GOOD…...................
gretchen . replied 24 days ago
thank you so much normaje… nothing inspires me more than love… so many different sides to one single truth. xox
butchart 25 days ago
seems she knitted herself the cocoon she so desperately craved (or maybe i’m reading this wrong)... love the untold story here…....b
gretchen . replied 24 days ago
you couldn’t be more spot on… i always appreciate how you connect to my views… wonderful seeing you b… xox
ArcadiaTempest 23 days ago
I saw the cold craving as a form of hibernation….to sleep and find a new season had beckoned her…
“She taught herself to crochet and started to make scarves and blankets, things to protect people from the coldness she craved. No one ever queried her colour choice, reds and yellows – the occasional orange. Brighter, lighter shades to absorb the force.”.....This line perplexed me at first…. she is making scarves and such to protect people from her coldness….So her deep desire to be frozen in time perhaps was soo strong in her she did not want to bring along with her by chance any others that may be snap frozen in the cold that she wanted ….She wanted to be alone in her iced cave it seems…
And somehow she found a way to turn some inner warmth back on and the hibernation was over….and she wore warmth …and kept on going without falling back into the icy dark…
I felt the sweet soft ache of melancholy in your story….really sublime writing XXX
gretchen . replied 23 days ago
thank you arcadia. i have a deep adoration of the light you bring to my words… even within their soft melancholy ache… your switch is always on. xox