The Eye
The clouds were still, the sky a watercolour of greys and blues. As though holding its breath, the wind cowered behind the trees and lay down in the grass, resting a moment before the storm returned and whisked it away. Puddles sank into damp earth, mud rising to take its place and all the while no sound could be heard but for the melody of the overflowing brook. For this moment, all was still.
A cloaked woman dipped a naked toe into the cool water, her hand resting on her husband’s shoulder in order to prevent herself from falling. She caught his eye, a smile touching her lips briefly before losing her balance and landing softly on the marshy ground. Laughing, he joined her there on the gentle slope, pulling her towards him. They, too, became still and their only movement was the flicker of their eyes as they took in the natural beauty of the wood around them. They had time to give to the stillness of the moment, to allow it to run away with them today and abandon thoughts of tomorrow. Disappearing into the fog on a grey Sunday afternoon let them hide from thoughts of death, of danger, of the war. Wrapping themselves in each other, they were shielded from tomorrow’s perils. Their fierce optimism protected them from despair, their despair inviting realism, a battle of keeping their heads and minds above the surface of misery.
Dim November sunlight danced on ribbons of water, hope glimmered in their eyes. The sun was starting to set, their one innocent day almost at an end. Caught between them was a shared hope, a thought, a dream; survival. Though tomorrow would arrive in torrents of rain reminiscent of yesterday, today would rest until the sun set. Huddled together as the sunlight warmed their faces, the tempest was forgotten and the stillness warmed their hearts. They had each other; others were not so lucky.
He traced the freckles on her nose with a cold finger, her eyes captured by his gaze. His own eyes reflected their past and she was grateful for the time they’ve had together, no matter how short. She buried her emotions under the weight of her uncertainty and now she was left with borrowed time. This time was precious and never for one moment did she forget how fortunate she was. He scolded himself for being so foolish as to choose head over heart. She had won him over with a heart big enough to think for the two of them. Enticing him with her passions, he had chosen to be reckless for once, the calm before the storm. He was the centre of her world.
Darkness crept under the fog, shadows crawling through the grass. Their time was upon them and as quick as it had come, the day was gone. Silence hung in the air briefly, a ghostly bubble before their movement burst it. The sun was leaving them and the storm’s eye behind.
A/N: thank you so much to Rachel for helping me oodles with this. This was my attempt at non-angst. You can judge the result for yourself...
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