Fluorescence tinged the moon amidst a darkly-tainted sky.
City lights from below competed with the glow from above—none of which was rivalrous worth.
She could feel the freshly watered grass beneath her feet, the solemn, after-sunset breeze assuring the leaves of false flight, and the aftermath of nothing but distingué echoes of the man she once knew.
She visualized the tiled pavement, the room, his warmth—the people they once were—the people they used to be. She thought about him; the way he was supposed to be, the way he should be.
The female took note of even the smallest of things:
the one corner of his erupting smile, brown flecks beneath drowsy eyelids, the ruffled patch of a mess he called, "hair". She watched the direction his hair always fell, and the way firm fingers ran through whenever he'd feigned high-strung uneasiness. With such aspects one would find irrelevant, she would find the most memorable. No, rather, they've been already carved in the back of her head without even the slightest amount of dearth.
"Happiness is a choice," as what most people say. She believed. But such credence was only deemed temporary.
He was her happiness, but she wasn't his choice.
Now, she stood there beneath a darkly-tainted sky,
reminiscing the things she should and shouldn't have done.
The leaves rustled.
The wind brushed,
the sky ablaze.
Harmonious were the sounds,
but ne'er piercing perturbed thoughts.
Regrets fill, memories return; it was a temporary event one would find merely typical.
May 28, 2016 Painting by Unknown
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