Dusk

She cast the mirror aside, resting a hand upon her heart. How it ached with feeling, that dreadful feeling of love rending one’s heart in two, for she’d lost it all; everything, everyone, everywhere.

Once upon a time

was the end of the world.

A young maiden traced the timid smile of her reflection

on a shard of green glass, sticky in her grasp and harbouring an odour that stung her nostrils.

Her lips contoured faintly, softening her features just so. The image was a pleasant one,

until she met those tired, grey eyes, sunken craters of sorrow; dark, deep, desolate.

Gently she brushed a dark lock from her temple, averting her gaze.

Without needing to look, she knew that the wound on her collarbone glowered red, the puckered skin swollen in a telltale sign of disease.

Withholding a sigh, she thought wryly of her current state of allure. Suitors would surely come far and wide for a girl with beauty and grace such as hers;

with weeping scars and tattered rags, who walked like the dead and slept like the living; of which there were none.

She cast the mirror aside, resting a hand upon her heart. Oh how it ached with feeling, that dreadful feeling of love rending one’s heart in two,

for she’d lost it all; everything, everyone, everywhere.

Once she’d been ordinary; one amongst many. A rose in a field of roses; outstanding in no particular way. But in only a week, the whole world was uprooted, in magical transformation. Now she was decidedly the most extraordinary girl on God’s green earth.

It was a silly game to play, really. But her mind beseeched her for distractions, anything it could get, and so she relented. The game was simple. "She was the best salsa dancer alive. She was the worst salsa dancer alive."

The sun would set soon. Its amber rays wove across the land, fire-like streams waltzing in the corners of her vision. It struck her fancy to climb a summit and observe its sluggish descent; to watch its ethereal hues melt beneath the horizon until only the starry sky remained. And so up she went,

clinging to the rusted, groaning rails of a fire escape, her boots clanging with heavy steps. Turning the fifth corner, she slipped, watching her feet slide beneath the poor excuse of a barrier. Adrenaline shot through her like a bullet, and her arms clamped so violently to the railing that her head rang with the impact.

Her heart beat a prestissimo, a butterfly fluttering against her skin. Giddiness seemed to coax her very soul out of her body; at this moment the ground seemed so very far beneath her, and the desire to witness the impending sunset consumed her something fierce. But it was unbecoming of her, dangling in the air like a fool. So she steadied her breath,

preparing to hoist herself to safety. Her shoulders already strained with effort. They’d endured and suffered and wouldn’t last long. With a sharp tug, she hauled herself over the ledge. Agony laced her front as the cold metal pressed against her sensitive, festering wound. Her legs shook as she cleared the last flights.

The landscape sprawled before her, a feast for her eyes alone. She marvelled at the scene, drinking it in as a man starved of water.  An inexplicable emotion swelled within her; it was as if she stood in the magnum opus of a virtuoso, a ninth symphony of mother nature. Cresting the edge of the world, the sun burned lower, a candle slowly dying.

Soon she wouldn’t be able to make out the jagged bones of buildings, the broken skeleton of a city laid in dust and ashes. As she stared into the sun, spots burned her vision. In those marks she could almost see the flap of her dog’s ear, the braid of her sister’s hair, the widespread beam of her father’s, the flowing dress of her mother’s. An acute pain rammed her sternum with each breath she took, but she refused to even blink whilst the sun remained. Her heart sank along with the earth's star. 

As the light was finally swallowed up by the endless night, she blinked, unashamed of the droplets that fell like leaves. She laid down, face upturned, and folded her hands against her stomach. Like a princess, she thought. A smile graced her lips again as she traced lines between the night stars, admiring their unearthly glamour. Something final settled in her chest. Like fate. Like destiny. She was alone; but soon she wouldn’t be. Tonight was the last night of her suffering, she was very assured of this fact,

for the infection on her collar neared its peak. Soon her mind would darken, and her body would rot with the hunger it had for flesh and blood.

When she wakes, she will never be the same. What last words did she have for such an occasion? Very few; almost nothing came to mind.

There was no one to hear her. What use were her words?

There really was nothing of importance to express. So she let her eyes slide quietly shut, drawing deep, indulgent breaths. The pull of the inevitable grasped at her throat and dragged her down, down, down…

‘Goodbye.’

And she was no longer alone,

for she was no longer.

Author's Note

In the original rendition on google docs, I used Berkshire Swash for the first font and Rock Salt for the secondary. Unfortunately, the aesthetic of the fonts did not crossover to this format. The idea for this short piece was to have two simultaneous perspectives within the same scene.

I am looking to experiment, practice, and improve my writing. Feedback is much appreciated. Thank you for reading!