A tip of sound, and he followed the creature as she danced through the lake. A light shone every time her feet touched the water, the trees blew their leaves from west to east, from north to south, and they moved swiftly to surround the dancer and the watcher. She moved inside her cage, making circles inside, making the water follow while he ran from trunk to trunk trying to find the night sky now covered in dark branches. He jumped and bled but she kept on circling from the outer lake into its center, draining the water, making it rise, making herself be engulfed in bright lights.

She jumped into the air and the trees disappeared for now the sky was ominous and distant, filled with stars and moments of wonder. Her hand stretched to grab his and they both came into contact, her nature against his, her black holes and his white, empty eyes, reached for each other and saw opposition. Below, the world began to shake and turned itself over. They flew amongst the clouds as each object on land, every piece of life, every tear of man, transformed into colorful lines to be swept up, to join again where light was dizzyingly infinite and obstinate, a light show were nothing happened, where few mattered. They both sat as the lines went, one by one, dozens, hundreds, millions, billions, forever in sorrowful green, in pure yellow, in dark crimson, in sexy violet, all chanting and singing as they rose to the moon, to Saturn, and beyond.

She let herself go and he followed some more for there were only oceans to explore in endless waves. She let herself be submerged within as he reached to feel her close one more. The moon shone within the surface but they were going down, to drown, where no light befell and no life had ever set to exist. She smiled and nodded, and he felt the last features of his face disintegrate as they latched onto her figure and change. Here he was at last, just a man, extinct and forgotten, and a figure, a thought of love, being stripped away of its essence by time and death. They were both the last remnants of hearts and souls and dance, and now they were to live at the bottom of all, to sleep and rest, and let themselves be liquid to surround precious lives that were sure to follow. Within the towering depths, one could almost make out what still was, a love story that had mutated into something unwavering and grotesque. His eyes turned gray and dreamless and she gave one last push as she lay herself on the ground, gasping for her essence, of a rhythm in the night, and felt the last sensations of her life, the coolness of the sand, the heartbeat stopping and ticking, one last caress through her face, and she turned, and twitched, and felt, and danced, and he began painting colors in her.

I like to write for some reason so I’m doing it here. I’ll try write something every day, and hopefully, get better at it.