Desolate Heavens

“I bet we'll live forever,” Seth did his best to make his soft voice sound assertive. Stephan smiled to himself as he broke a sprig of lavender from its stem.

“That would be nice, wouldn't it?” He replied, choking back his original thought that death was inevitable, and for him, merciful.

It was a lovely, cloudless night as they lay among the lavender, and he was loathe to ruin it.  He watched a flock of geese fly past, the moonlight catching their feathers and making it look as if a lazy formation of ghosts flapped overhead. Their honking felt diminished in the void of darkness.

“You don't believe me,” Seth pouted.

“Of course I do. We will live forever, you and I.” Stephan squeezed his younger twin’s hand, the way he always did when they were alone like this. “Our breaths will be innumerable, and our heartbeats as countless as the stars.”

“Stop trying to sound poetic,” Seth laughed, withdrawing his hand from Stephan’s grasp and reaching up to the sparkling blackness. “It doesn't suit you.”

Stephan didn't respond. He felt a bit silly after saying such grandiose things. They lapsed into silence, and he watched as Seth traced the constellations with a pale finger. His favorite was Orion, who watched over the pair in cosmic tranquility.

“Where do you think mom is?” Seth could not feign casual speech with this question, though Stephan knew he tried.

“Dead. We were just at her funeral.” Stephan closed his eyes, as desirous of this subject as one is of getting poisoned. The dirt was warm beneath his fingertips, and a summer breeze snaked through the perfumed field, but he felt frozen inside.

“I know that,” Seth snapped, his arms falling to his sides. “I meant now.”

“Gone.” Stephan replied flatly. He didn't want to talk about this. Not now. Maybe not ever. It was as if he was still standing over her casket, looking down into her face as her husk exuded more peace than she ever had.

“There has to be some kind of afterlife.” Seth continued, failing to heed Stephan’s tone. “People can't just be gone. All of that effort can't be for nothing.”

Author's Note

A prologue of sorts? I want it to be, but perhaps it wont work out. We'll have to see.

Reviews

[Nanaki]

Quite enjoyed and if you do use it as a prologue I think it could go in a number of directions.

I particularly liked “Our breaths will be innumerable, and our heartbeats as countless as the stars.” Thought it was a god simile of being eternal