The wick of the candle has been burning. It’s been 3 months since it was lit. To the eye that looks at the wax that has melted the weight of the wait, it feels nothing less than pain morphing itself into solid water.
The other day the heavens roared in anger. They shouted at the clouds “Can’t you see her? Carrying on, with hiccups in her throat, and words in her mouth, unable to say what she truly feels?.....Go, travel the oceans and cease the distance!” She looked up at the lightening, scared, melting away, as the days passed.
The breeze would carry his conversations, mixed with grains of sand, fragrances of the other land and the saltiness of the waters. The other day, when she found herself staring at her reflection, she melted like there was no tomorrow. The moon winced in pain. The wax told her to hold on, for what if there was no more left to melt? She gathered herself, flickered for few moments. And began to burn herself again…..and again….and again….for there was someone burning too.