A Conversation

A Story by Sadie Cahill

about life.

Two people sat on a rock. One was of a woman, long silver hair and pale skin, and one was of a man, black hair reaching to his broad back. They sat on the rock, drinking underneath a luminescent moonlight.

The woman spoke, “What pretty lights.” She was commenting on the long sea of lights below her, which came from a big city. Wind blew, as they are up at the top of the mountain, and it was very cold.

“They are pretty, indeed,” the man affirmed. He drank a glass of whisky. “Yet sad.”

“Perhaps, but your people looks like they are enjoying themselves,” the woman said, leaning forward as if she is looking closer at something below.

“They are wearing masks, to hide the pain that they have within,” the man said, turning down the woman’s opinion.

“Perhaps so,” the woman said, airily. “But perhaps there are some people who contain a small shred of sadness…?”

“There isn’t,” the man answered. “People live, drowning in the sea of sadness. Yet, like us who are drunk in this alcohol, they enjoy their sadness, no matter how painful. They have committed sins from the day that they are born, hurt people as they spoke their opinions, they are slaves in freedom, playing in captivity.”

“You, sir… is a pessimistic person,” the woman commented.

“Perhaps I am, but the closer word that I relate myself into would be a realist,” the man said.

“It might be reality, albeit painful, but the fact that people relish in the happiness and blessings that are given to them, proves that life isn’t as sad as you think…” the woman said. She stood up, “I should be going now,” she said, placing the cup down onto the rock that she had sat on. She walked away, leaving the man underneath the moonlight.