The room

I sat in a room in an ethereal haze and wept upon a small sprite that I cupped in my hands.  I had not known the tiny creature very long, and yet I loved it, and sometimes when I hugged it, I felt it hugged my heart.  It hugged my heart with such ferocity that I thought it would burst.  I found it utterly unfathomable that such a diminutive entity could make me feel such a profound sense of loss, even though it had not gone anywhere.  And yet, deep loss is indeed what I felt.

My face twisted and contorted into horrific shapes, and I did my best to quiet my body, lest I drop my precious trinket upon the floor.  I certainly couldn’t let any harm come to it.  Not that there was overly much I could do to protect it, but I felt it my duty to harbor it safely while it was in my stead.

The warmth I once felt from it soon turned cold and stagnant, and I wept still more, because I knew there was nothing I could do to help it.  I wished and wished and wished again that I could hold the sprite forever, even though it was a wickedly stupid thought.

I kissed the warm forehead and placed the squirming body back among the reeds in the fog of the room, stood as the sun set, and then watched the darkness swallow my dreams.

Flail on,
– Classical Spazz

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~ by ClassicalSpazz on September 27, 2012.

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