Until then, Hello.

A Story by S.Ren

Its a letter to someone I haven't met yet and hope I will someone day. Afterall, we all connected six degrees by separation.

Amongst ourselves we walk among individuals from different planes of life, the masses of heads that eventually blur together in the midst of our lives stay unknown. The constant rush to belong and focus on the future often crushes the idealism and naivety of youth. We die as one but live as strangers flittering within our field of vision, a never escaping peripheral that clouds our senses and sets a curtain over our field of ingenuity. Does one often feel trapped within the constancy of life, like an ant whose future is predetermined from hatching?

I walk amongst the field of corns and pillars of salt, as we stand amongst each other divided yet a blur. As the fields grow and thicken the seclusion remains a variable that is certain. I shine, amongst the golds and rubies of the Earth, and if so is it enough to feel something stir within me to know I exist. I shout, in a room with closed doors, and the echoes return like fire, scorching my ears and burning my skin, as I harken the cries of a child of the Earth. My heart, it beats the blood of the ones among me, yet I walk in the blood of my ancestors alone. I smile in a world full of strangers waiting for someone to smile back at me. I cry, in a world filled with roses as they collect my tears, turning them to stains upon their petals. I stare, as they soak in the distress and make it meaningful, I stare at their lack of remorse. I dance, in a world full of soldiers with limbs that are sore as they try to walk amongst the stronghold battles and torrential falls.

I search, for the fallen warriors of time, withered dreamers, whose trials are no longer lost but dragged like a mule behind them. I am a caricature of the child I once was and an illusion and distant dream of the woman I should be. The harsh betrayal of the winter is when it ends and the crops are no longer ready for reaping, however they have the potential to grow once more.

Falling in the abyss I sore like a hummingbird quick and mighty. In a room full of tatters and despair I crawl from the hole and reach for the rope. In a world full of strangers, I wait. The ticking of time gives me hope for someone to see my hand in a crowd full of shadows. White light raised towards the sky in a sea full of blurred faces, so until you can see or hear me, Hello from across the room.