|With the Passing of Time
Author: Black Demon Dragon PM
A short, melancholy dream of another's memories.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Fantasy/Hurt/Comfort - Words: 502 - Published: 03-20-13 - Status: Complete - id: 3110457
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Gentle tones of a worn music box filled the air as aged hands patted lightly at the soil surrounding the stem of a daisy. I found myself curious as my focus was turned without my will to the face of an elderly man who could be in no less than his sixtieth year, nearly glowing in the sunlight of early Spring. A soft smile was on his face, which suddenly broadens as he looks up at me.
I find myself pushed aside without force, standing now before a young and beautiful woman, her hand outstretched to me with an expression of joy that surely mirrored the elderly man's without effort. Once more my perspective shifts as I stand aside, though having never moved, and see a smooth and strong hand grasp hers.
Somehow the hands of time have graced the man once more with forgotten youth as he stands before a freshly planted daisy in an otherwise empty garden. No force is truly applied as he suddenly pulls her into an embrace and silent laughter spills from her lips in time to the soft melody and echoes of lyrics surrounding the couple. I can hardly focus on the words, but their meaning does not escape me; a song of always being together, no matter what changes the world should bring.
She pulls away from him now, and he allows this, but only enough so that he can hold her properly for the spin he brings her to. Twirling about to a melody that fits too perfectly with seasons changing behind them slowly, they seem to grow older and their smiles more serene than excited. My heart fills with warmth at the emotions in their eyes; no longer aware of the world around them, only happy to be within one another's presence.
As Winter falls, he spins her one last time into a careful dip, looking upon her as though she were the most beautiful woman in the world and untouched by the years that have somehow passed. Her silver locks fall from her face as she once more falls to silent laughter in his arms, only to shift her expression to a small smile as he leans closer. Simultaneously, their eyes slip closed and grins become small tugs at the corners of their lips in bliss just as the contact is made and she fades in his embrace.
Once more, I find myself looking up at the aged and smiling face of a man in early Spring. His eyes open and a single tear slips free. The lyrics that once surrounded me dissipate into the familiar sounds of the music box as my perspective shifts one last time. Standing, his tear lands upon the petal of the daisy planted with care in the soil of a single grave among a garden flowing with flowers. Though now clearly a broken man, his smile never fades as he stares lovingly at the flower that sparked his fondest memories with one person he held dear.