Field of Despair

As the light began to fade, she found herself standing in a tall grassy field with shadows looming over the horizon. The gentle breeze played with her hair as she listened to the sound of the cicadas drown out her thoughts. She wasn’t sure why she was there. She wasn’t even sure how she had got there. It didn’t really seem to matter. She was tired and dazed. The night air drugged her with a yearning for sleep. It was time to say goodbye to the light forever. It was time to disappear into the shadows and never be known again.

She turned toward the setting sun to say her goodbyes to the light, and in that instance, she saw him standing there. His eyes were hollow and his face wore no emotion. He stood there and watched her as her eyes swelled with tears. She wanted to speak with him just one last time before she merged with the shadows. Still, the light continued to fade and his face was becoming harder to see.

She called out to him and took a step towards the end of the field where he was standing. However, no matter how hard she tried, her step would not land. She could not continue that way; the way where the light still lived. She cried out to him in hopes that he would reach out for her, but he slowly turned and started walking away without a sound, back into the light that she was never again to be a part of. The warm tears flooded her cheeks as she screamed and tried to fight the force holding her back so she could go to him. But there was no going back in that direction now.

The pale princess of misery realized that the light was growing weaker. The last sands of her hourglass had fallen. The sadness in her heart as she watched him disappear into the mist was strong enough to silence even the song of the cicadas and bring stillness to the wind. She could no longer hear. She could no longer feel. All that was left was the fading light. And then, as the last ounce of life left her, the field was no more. He was no more. There was nothing but darkness. And finally, the eternal sleep had claimed her.

* From my book Restless Reflections