If Only She Had Heard His Yearning…
"Well walk me at least."
"Honestly, I wish I could."
"You know, by the time you finally wake up, I'll be lying on some trash heap."
Ilse said in words broken by tears, and abruptly ran away from Moritz's somber face. Through the rain of tears that filled her eyes she caught a glimmer of something concealed behind his back. A pistol.
"For the love of God! All I had to do was say yes! Ilse? Ilse!"
No response.
"So what will I say? I'll tell them – the angels – I got drunk in the snow. Then sang and played pirates. Yes, I'll tell them. I'm ready now. I'll be an angel."
He paused yet again, hoping someone would wind him before…
No response.
It's better off this way.
"Ten minutes ago you could see the entire horizon. Now only the dusk. The first few stars."
He prepares himself.
"So dark."
Is anyone coming?
"So dark."
I guess no one would even notice if I was gone. I will become a butterfly, and not a single soul will catch me flutter by.
"So da-"
A shriek.
The glimmer of the gunmetal. Suddenly Ilse's mature bohemian air converted into one of childish fear. She stopped dead in her tracks. She had loved Moritz. More than anyone could know. No. Too scared to go back to him. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks selfishly. What was she thinking? Leaving her one true companion, fellow pirate – her love, alone to his own demise? She wanted him to escape his cynical thoughts, he refused. Turned, ran – sprinted, bare feet being lacerated by the earth. How could I have been so conceited? A trash heap? He could be dead. The mere thought brought her feet to move quicker.
A shriek.
"WAIT!"
Thank you lord. He took it as an omen. His plans ceased twice, but as for the second time, by who? Ilse appeared from the brush. Panting, cuts and scrapes, torn men's blouse, and tear stained face.
"I'm not going to play games with you, Moritz."
Bewildered, he responded.
"I thought you wanted to play pirates and curl my-"
"No. I know what you are trying to do. Trust me, it's not like I've never tried it either. I guess I can't stop you, but I love you enough to try." She remarked, rudely interrupting her friend.
"You love me?" he questioned in shock.
Avoiding his inquiry, Ilse continued.
"I won't beat around the bush with you, Moritz. Just come somewhere with me. And please, forget this mess."
The one thing Moritz had longed for was to know if someone would care if he became a laundry line. Melchior- maybe. He always was so wrapped up in his philosophy. Hearing Ilse mutter those three words, pleading him not to go, made him have a purpose. Small, but some.
"I can't go back to my home. Ever. I've failed."
"Haven't we all?" she said with a flirty smile.
He gazed at her eyes now seeing her true compassion and understanding.
"Come with me to Priapya. They care not if you failed. They ask no questions."
Having nothing else to live for, he swiftly replied
"sure."
The two lost souls softly joined hands, and without another word, started on their walk to freedom.