Sycamore Shade

Under the shade of the old sycamore, I can wait forever...

 

 

From afar, I caught a glimpse of her. In fast and long strides, she walked. She walked like every road was a place for a beautiful catwalk yet she was not on heels, she was on black n’ white Nike rubber shoes. Her black waves covered half of her face. The rays of the afternoon sun were mirrored through her eyes that I couldn’t read. A gentle breeze blew, she stopped and closed her eyes. Her shape was an imperfect perfection at the middle of the field of green. And I’d always wondered what were things she found so special with the wind, she said it was the scent. I was a fool for not realizing her metaphors. She opened her eyes, stared at the blue sky then finally she ran to me. I thought it was an illusion but it was really her. She seemed to be dancing with the wind, her fingertips touching the blades of grass, her smile was one I’d never seen before. After wearing a series of black and gray shirts for more than a year, today was rare to see her in plain white tee. And as always, she rocked those tattered jeans. She was an expert in choosing which would look good on her while hiding the scars from beneath. I was a bit surprised of how tight her hug was. “Take care of yourself”, she whispered.

 

She let go.

 

Then she held my hand. Side by side we walked into the forest she knew since she was a child. She was speaking, I was listening. “I thought I forget about this beautiful fortress.” It was weird but it felt like the wild vines stretched their bodies to welcome her back, asking “Where have you been?” The birds sung their songs... “The mockingjay, did you hear? Do you know Katniss Everdeen?” “...I heard about her.” She frowned. She knew I was lying.

 

While passing by every tree, she introduced them to me.

“Meet Mr. Oak. Old as time, Sir meet my friend here. Mr Oak, I wonder if you can speak my mind for me? After all, I told you about many things I’ve known before.”

“Dear Ivy, thank you for lending your trunk. Will you help me this time? You will not answer, I know.”

“Here is Rowan. They say you are of endless gifts. Your leaves that heal, why won’t you heal all my pain?”

 

In her tone was a sadness I couldn’t fathom. I lost track of what she meant all of a sudden. After a long walk we found ourselves standing on a huge rock, that sort of rock seen on the Disney movie, Lion King. She was on the edge. Below was a lagoon... deep, unclear, mysterious water. “My uncle dropped his silver ring down there when I was five. They tried to search for it but they couldn’t reach the bottom. It’s fathomless.” Next thing I knew, she let go of my hand. Her shoes were dangling by the bushes behind her. “I think I’ll go. I’ll see if I can find my uncle’s ring.”

 

Suddenly I was grasping for air. It took seconds before I was able to breathe again. Then it came to me. I was crying already. She couldn’t swim. She never learned. She hated the waters.

 

...

 

Days passed by...

I can still hear her whisper, “Take care of yourself.”

That day, her smile was different... her voice, her eyes

I failed to see all of it.

Under the shade of the old sycamore, I can wait forever.

Maybe one day,she’ll come...

She’ll run right back into my arms.

 

She’ll come running right back to me.

Forever I will wait

Under the sycamore shade.

 

 

Aprille

063017

2320

 

Author's Note

An attempt on writing a short story. Reviews are very much appreciated. Thank you.

-Aprille (Olive)

Reviews

[.]

I like it, Olive.......

This has a certain degree of mythical melancholia running throughout, and given a dreamlike quality with your use of film references.

Those final lines really do pack an emotional punch and sum up the story quite perfectly. She knew her time had come. The way she dressed, her pauses to feel the wind, the whispers in the ear....her journey was ending, and she knew. And the obvious was not seen with clarity until in hindsight.

A fine attempt at short story writing. The endings of such short pieces must be well executed given the limited story length, and a short story can live or die on the effectiveness of its ending. Yours succeeds extremely well. Very nice work.

[Aprille]

Thank you so much Doodley.

[William Gardner]

Hi Olive. I loved the first paragraph, it felt real and reached across. For me at least, you kind of lost me after, the hunger games reference stopped me. This is someone you knew, and she is gone? I understand, and I understand that you may have spoke of simple things in the last moments. When you relate them, give the meaningless meaning, don't drop it in with the weight of all of your experience as if one is like the other. Just my advice, best.

[Aprille]

Thank you so much William.

P.S. It's just me and my imagnination. ;)

[Aprille]

*imagination

[Hailey Juliet]

I found it read alot like prose with poetic voice, a beautiful read. Very nice!

[Aprille]

Thank you Hailey. :)

[Leslie Philibert]

EXcellent write that combines both elements of prose and lyric, well written, well done !

[Aprille]

Thank you so much. :)

[Zoya]

So beautiful, touching. Just felt it. Thanks much for sharing.

[Aprille]

Thank you Zoe

[Zoya]

No problem

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

This is really pretty good, almost like transposing a dream into reality. My breath nearly caught in my chest when she jumped off the rock, and he grasped nothing but air. While I think there's definitely room to develop the characters and storyline more, overall this is quite impressive.

[Aprille]

I have plans for the story and the characters, I'll try my best. ;) Thank you Linda.

[wordman]

a good attempt,loved the tory

[Aprille]

Thank you so much wordman

[wordman]

you`re welcome

[Coyote Poetry]

A very interesting tale. You create good story line and strong characters. The situation was deadly and the ending left the reader with something to think about. Thank you for sharing the excellent short story.
Coyote

[Aprille]

Thank you Coyote. Have a good day. :)

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome.