Silent Reflection
(A Cloud Prose/Character Sketch)
((Inspired by: "Dearest" and "Every Heart" from InuYasha))
--Stories written in this tense are often awkward, I hope I did well.
Storm
There are times when I wonder why I'm here and how I got myself into this mess. Sitting out on the back patio of my house around the time of an early November sunset I like to stay alone and think.
Pastel pinks and oranges begin to shade the sky as the sun falls to kiss the horizon. I look out at the backyard. The leaves of the tall oak tree rustle and fall, dropping colors of red and yellow. An outstretched branch holds up a lone swing, clinging by two rust tainted chains, a wooden plank attached at the ends with sturdy iron nails. Without a passenger is rocks back and forth, empty and lonely, awaiting the day it will once again be used. The wind whistles through the branches of the proud old oak; the bearer of childhood memories.
Teioh finally lies down with a tired chirp tucking his feathery head under his black wing, beginning to snooze. I'm not nearly as tired. The hinge door on the fence creaks with a small sound, no louder than the wind. The wind tousles the grass, sending each individual blade waving goodbye to the now set sun. It is a rare, quiet, and beautiful night in Midgar.
Inside I hear laughter, the laughter of my first, my surprise, my little shock to reality. She's the one who got me to where I am no; dragged me kicking and screaming, shoving the phrase "That's Life" down my throat, and I'm glad. I could picture the mannerisms, small things, all down to the funny way she flicks her wrist and her silly toothy grin. Her eyes were the color of mine but the innocence they held I lack there of. Waterfall of golden hair flowing around her face like a halo of light…this is my daughter.
Above her laughter floats a melody, a song. I know from which this melody came. Peering over at the window leading into my bedroom I see another member of my family. The sheer curtains obscure my vision but I can clearly see her silhouetted figure surrounded by a dim glowing aura of candle light. She rocks slowly back and forth, soft lips forming the words of her song, a little bundle in her arms. "She" is my life, all I live for in my present day life. Listening to her soft soothing song coaxes a smile to play on my lips and light a warming fire in my heart, with this I feel complete. I hear the respondent coo from the little bundle, that little bundle is my son. Closing my eyes I remember the first time I held him in my arms, just a few short days ago. Something so tiny and frail would one day grow up…it boggled my mind as I rethought something that I had simply dismissed so many times before. MY son…Our son, hers and mine. I love him, and I love her…desperately.
Now she draws back the curtains and with a treasure of a smile she looks to me. She, I conclude, is the one who got me into this mess, and I don't want out. There are times such as this I enjoy this silent reflection.