End Scene: V.V.

Entities in an establishment longing for one another, undercover of foresight, she’ll be back in a fortnight.

Encased in white, encased by mother and brother.

 

Liquor and culture about; a jovial spread.

 

Eyes locked, avoided for the most part, pondering a predicament; this angel is heaven sent.

As not to draw attention, unwanted suspension of situation.

 

Something to mention.

Something to mention.

 

We wait…

 

Ducking down to create a sense of loss.

We did this before, a few hours back.

Hardly an instance of thought is put into the sleep that was lost.

 

The moments harden and crack to black.

Sat back and relaxed in the past.

 

Eyelids as rusted metal; oil maintenance is a necessity posthaste.

 

I am gone only but from the trivial times, coming out from the galley.

She has left-

 

Left me a souvenir, a created past; empty glasses on the table, plates removed by the able.

Staff wipes the evidence into a stained bleach-soaked towel.

Napkins rest crumpled with DNA of my lover, true fable.

 

Never before has there been such an intelligent and learned listener, empathy for we…

Empathy, you see.

 

Gone.

 

Rush out to the floor to observe what was before.

(Has this been the last sight I will see of her?)

 

Praying she hasn’t passed the doorway.

I explore.

 

Hands splayed at the side like a madman, but calculated.

I have two occupations presently.

 

Find her.

 

Straight ahead and to the right, she does the same but to the left.

She has not the latter.

 

Across the room, and we lock eyes again for the last time.

As she is looking for me.

 

Smile as long as the Nile.

True glee.

 

I raised an arm and opened my mouth as if to say, “Love!  Don’t forget, don’t go just yet.”

There is a lot to do, us two.

 

She ran back, as I, we met half way.

A hug, a kiss, and this I think of today.

 

She sits on a plane…

I watched her walk away.

 

 

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