Happiness for a Two Pence
She smiles.
Its always the little things that matter. A perfect picture with a glimpse of a tear on a smile, a hollow look, a turned cheek.
Something read between the lines.
It drizzles outside...and little tears fall down the pane, tracing gullies of dirt down a shadowy path to the point where it trickles outside the vision. What are they crying for?
The depressive calm of grey outside the window is strangely reassuring. A leaf out of place, a whispered breeze may break this calm. And the rush will come, with the storm raging its heart out. Till then its silent, with the drizzle drumming a gentle beat of tears on the pane.
It continues.
But still she smiles on.
And this perfectness we assumed would continue, that it would not come...the day when tomorrow was too far away in thought and even further in sustainability. Today is a burden even. She knew it but she never thought about it. Was there much peace bought on the hope that it might last?
At least the smile was accompanied by some laughter.
And now it's raining. The drizzle turned to rain. It had to. Huge puddles of water, mightily warring on the feeble ground. At times she cries with the burden...the guilt (?) of her decision.
At least it was better than the alternative.
And while her eyes are still wet, she looks at me and smiles.
Then she hugs me.
All will be well. I know.
Its always the little things that matter. A perfect picture with a glimpse of a tear on a smile, a hollow look, a turned cheek.
Something read between the lines.
It drizzles outside...and little tears fall down the pane, tracing gullies of dirt down a shadowy path to the point where it trickles outside the vision. What are they crying for?
The depressive calm of grey outside the window is strangely reassuring. A leaf out of place, a whispered breeze may break this calm. And the rush will come, with the storm raging its heart out. Till then its silent, with the drizzle drumming a gentle beat of tears on the pane.
It continues.
But still she smiles on.
And this perfectness we assumed would continue, that it would not come...the day when tomorrow was too far away in thought and even further in sustainability. Today is a burden even. She knew it but she never thought about it. Was there much peace bought on the hope that it might last?
At least the smile was accompanied by some laughter.
And now it's raining. The drizzle turned to rain. It had to. Huge puddles of water, mightily warring on the feeble ground. At times she cries with the burden...the guilt (?) of her decision.
At least it was better than the alternative.
And while her eyes are still wet, she looks at me and smiles.
Then she hugs me.
All will be well. I know.
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