That Morning – A Very Short Story

The morning came with its silent coolness. The freshness of the dew, today, had a lonely melancholy touch. As did my gaze as I stood by the familiar bay. But, nothing seemed familiar today.

I felt like an abandoned child in an unknown land. Yet, this was the same place that greeted me every morning with the smiling glory of the majestic sun.

This morning as I stood by the haven, I felt like a traveller without a haven to stay. Without a place to embrace. Even though, this morning I was not a traveller. The traveller was travelling in the majestic ship as it weighed its anchor with its usual grace. But, the anchor seemingly tied to my heart was being ripped from it as it freed itself to sail.

This morning my heavy heart sank as the anchor rose and my knees felt weak. My legs remained shackled to the deck as the ship unchained itself from the pier. I raised my gaze and saw her…or her image…or what I imagined to be her image… My cloudy, blurry vision couldn’t tell real from the imagined. My numbed mind and pained heart didn’t care about the difference. I ached to see the illusion, yet it pained me to look at the illusion. I longed for her glimpse, though I knew there was no promise in the visual. My weakened mind merely mirrored a reflection of the desire of my aching heart.

Likewise, there I saw her again. My drowsy and distrait emotions pictured her waving slightly. A faint smile playing around her mouth, a serene calmness in the deep browns of her gaze. I felt myself falling backward from the deck and into the well of her gaze, losing all gravity, I swam in their chocolatey warmth and coziness. If only I could pause this moment, save this feeling, replaying it for an eternity… But she was meant to go. From here to another haven. Nothing remains paused. Life runs into death and death consumes us all.

Thus, the stately vessel pulled further away into the arms of the vast sea. I stood still and stared and stared, trying to keep the last vestiges of her grace, magnificence, and pulchritude alive in the chest of my memories in this ultimate visual memory. With an undercurrent of a spontaneous silly hope of this all being untrue or of the return of the ship bringing glad tidings of reunion. Alas, there was no going back… The mast of the ship dipped into the horizon and my weak wish drowned in its aqueous grave.

Waves upon waves were crashing yet not spilling on the rims of my eyes. ‘She was gone’, was too difficult to accept, and too real to deny. I tore my eyes from the uncomfortably peaceful sea and looked up at the vacant sky that told a tale as blank as my current life. No rain to hide my tears in, I let my pain eat away at my heart, forming in it a void within a void, and, thus, my eyes remained as empty as the skies above.

© Seemeen Khan Yousufzai


2 Replies to “That Morning – A Very Short Story”

  1. why did it end : / it took me to another world, i could feel every word written here and trust me these lines speak for the purity of themselves and the writer. I know this is much much more than just a piece of writing but still the best thing i ever read is all i can say but the point is that the previous best was by you as well.

    Liked by 2 people

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