Fiona's

“How long?”
You inhaled another breath, and then released all that occupied your lungs with a gentle whisper that broke the silence.
“What?”
“How long before it’s done?”
“Dunno.” Shrugged with an indifferent attitude. “How would I ever care?”
That was a late night prate, after several puffs on pot and a knife drowned in flows of red.

“Don’t you think it’s crazy to ask how long now?”
“Yeah. Completely insane.”
We both laughed as the first light of dawn penetrated through the seams of that beige drapes with small daisies on it. You bought it online the day you moved in. You said these daisies reminded you those good old days of youth, days traveling around the world with a carefree mind.

I couldn’t agree with you more.
But now life is such a drain with no one care but two hollow souls that sucks.
Summer days of old time, what else?
The weather was hot and dry, causing wildfires everywhere. Have any of us been taught to survive through this periodical disaster? Old summer time with a clear, beautiful sky. How could I blame it for it’s one of the most mesmerizing elements I could ever have.

I knew you would understand. This wasn’t just having a bad day.
“Hey, you still there?”
“………….”
“Hey!”
You didn’t reply.
I sat up to check the time. Two hours later from the first drop spilt. Your face, pale but peaceful.

If this is the end...no more summers, no more feigned ecstasy. Then I guess this is the last. The first day you brought all you have into my new apartment, an early autumn night with light rain, delicate as mist, scattering down from heaven. As time ceased at this moment, things finally got back to the right place.
I leaned down to kiss you on the lips, gently.
“Sleep tight, my dear.”
“Sleep tight...”