She put her head on his chest. He was playing with her hair. It was a gloomy night, or day. It was not obvious. Dark clouds were moving vaguely in distance. They were kissing. She smiled, he looked at the edge of her lips which were slightly open. They rested underneath his chin. He held her and resumed looking the distance.
Then he was riding a bike, in a blue night. An elder woman who seemed to be ill was on his ride. She was in pain but she was silent. You could determine her devastation by looking at her deformed figure from behind. The way her spine collided with the break handle and the angle of her head on his neck. It was a misty night with no one in sight, seemed that they were the only two humans in the world. He was desperately peddling all over the narrow streets, seeking something. Maybe help, maybe a shelter or a place to take refuge. Or a region to comfort her pain and to relief his. He was peddling in a labyrinth, reaching the same point several times but kept starting again. Because hope is a strange thing, it manipulates your mind.
He suddenly woke up. It was a dizzy night. Moonlight was shining partially on his sheets. For a moment he confused where he was. Silence was the king, ruling his whereabouts.
A camera was planted at the edge of his room. The LCD showed a man f… a girl from behind. He was pulling her hair. She was enjoying as well. It was not as if he was forcing himself to her. He was doing what should have been done. They were illuminated by a cold yellow light. Shadows were pale. They were visible by the chilling sun.
Then he was alone again. Gazing out the window. Beholding all those blocks that possessed his surroundings. They were multiplied by an infinite number. He was staring at the horizon until a voice interrupted him.
He looked back. But, she was gone. As if she had never been there, at all.
He was watching her while she grew older. The wrinkles started to surface for each one reflected the pain she had been suffering all these years. Like the hidden circles inside a tree. She looked at the mirror just to find the embodiment of an intolerable ordeal that possessed her soul, all along. She turned back. He was still there, looking for an innuendo, or something to live for. She had taken everything for granted, as many would do. He had been shattered by her fake smiles. Days has passed, she turned grey. But, the rose remained the same. Old and wise. He went back, took his rose. Its thorns were no longer a threat, they’ve become soft. He gazed upon the horizon and smiled. Smiled to a beauty that was banished, in time.
To be continued and completed…