after the rain.

after the rain.
beauty is left.

blog list

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

random writings: By the lake, a breeze greets her.

Despite what her parent told her, she could not let go of the past. Of the past, one of the hardest things for her to forget was that summer. Unforgettable, that summer was; it was the needle in a hay sack of previous years that glimmered in the light, waiting to be found. With a new year of school ahead, Sara stepped out of the car onto the campus ground. Lifting her hand forward and above to the deep blue sky, she turned it as if offering something and drummed her fingers in midair--quite a silly sight--remembering how it felt to have her friend's hand in hers.

Sara never liked boats nor did she like the gusts of wind that the speed of the them formed as it ruined her carefully arranged hair while thrashing through the waters, but Jay always insisted that she needed "a keen feeling of nature to truly understand beauty." Pft! It was always said that beauty is in the eyes of its beholder and in Sara's eyes, beauty was her hair smooth and silky--untainted by montrous winds that would frizzle the ends.

Jay lightly patted the top of Sara's head and with a sympathetic sigh, continued to coax her onto the boat. When she finally relented, Sara rolled her eyes and lazily entered the vehicle. It was their last summer together anyways. When the motor began to sputter with excitement, Sara gripped tightly on the white leather seats, but after an hour, the only sounds that filled the air was the calmed humming of the boat and the calls of the seagulls gliding above. Once by the lake, a cool breeze greets her and brushes by gently; the air alleviating the stress of the fall and new year to come. Jay's hand gradually slips into hers and the rush of color and sense from the surroundings of the lake begin to soak in. Twisting her lips into a smile, Sara realizes what feeling Jay had tried to explain before.

Closing her eyes, the pull was too strong. Sara confirmed something deep down in her stain glass heart--fragile, yet resistant against the fire of opposition: she would never forget that summer.

1 comment:

Tania said...

I liked how you get the feel of the character's personality in such a short prose. That's hard to do.

acceptance

You just can't hold on forever.
Giving up something you held
so dearly is tough, but manageable.
We all have to move on.
Right?

Please fill out!