by Jessica Lynn Lovelace

Created on: April 21, 2009

The Legend

I stand at the top of the mountain looking down, down, down. To what? What did she see as she raised her arms letting her wish burn the air? Even now I feel the heat of her wish, a young desperate fire slashing at the rain. I want to know what she felt, to understand why she dove into this rosy legend, like it was Heaven.

A drop of rain falls on this desert. I taste the change in the air wondering if she waited long enough to taste this change, if she had enough pieces left to taste.

"I wouldn't suggest it."

She looks down with me. Watching another place, another life.

"You did it." I say.

"No. I'm still doing it."

I look farther over the edge, but see nothing but giants and their chairs. She points. I watch a tiny black dot fall, fall, glide really.

"What are you thinking about down there?"

Determination looks at me. "My wish. How things will be when it comes true. My parents will stuff their faces with chocolate and every food they love. Like children they will have sugar laced on their lips. And they will laugh and laugh and enjoy living."

I stare at the dot I no longer see. "And you? How will they be happy without you?"

In a faraway voice she says, "I don't know how to describe this. It's like I'm falling into another world. A world where time takes a forever vacation. A vacation lived in the air. I'm gliding down an endless tunnel. A tunnel that breathes, a tunnel that caresses me, a tunnel that has the power and sympathy to change the molecules of everything."

She falls quiet. Rain slides down her face. I stand dry.

Silence looks at us, wondering what brought two shadows here. Questions only partially answered.

She cuts the silence. "Don't do it."

"Why not?"

"You don't have to. You have people who love and need you."

Facing her I stab back, "So do you."

A battle rages in her face, her mouth rises victorious, "I'm doing this for them. My last option."

"What if this isn't an option? What if this isn't real?"

Curly hair shakes vigorously, "It has to be real. It has to be."

"What if it isn't?" I persist.

Her eyes sigh, dropping the subject, her opinion still firm. I can't tell the destination of the wheels in her head. I contemplate if I want to. I do. I want to know what has led her to fly against gravity, why she needs to believe this legend. Is her wish worth sticking a 'for sale' sign on her soul? And those she leaves behind, do they cross her mind?

Reading my thoughts she continues, "I do. I left my heart in a plastic container in the fridge

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>