The Truth About Heaven
Eden
"You're here."
Is all she says when you slip through the cloud-lace gates, and it's strange. The glimmer in her mismatched hazel greens, the ones that sparkled all through chemo and blood tests---there's not a trace of it. You've never seen her look more put together---more perfect. She doesn't look a day over twenty.
Absently, you feel a pang.
"I'm with you, now." you say, stepping towards her. She doesn't move. "I've waited so many years."
She smiles, and there are no lines on her skin.
-x-
"So, what have you been doing, all this time?"
She shrugs at the question, and the light hits her in such a poetic way; it streams through the blond of her hair, and you can't see yourself getting used to it any time soon.
"Living." is her reply. She's tracing over the pearl-roads aimlessly, not putting much thought into her words.
Is that all you have to say to me?
"I can't really say that I've been living," you find yourself saying. "Because it just wasn't the same without you. Fifty years-"
"Mm. A long time, huh?"
Normally, you might've yelled, felt hurt claw at your rattling bones.
You don't feel a thing.
-x-
"Oh, why don't we go horse-riding?"
You stare at her skeptically for a moment, a cleanly-arched eyebrow raising itself. "I thought you were afraid of them?"
She shakes her fairy-head quickly, although she doesn't look upset or impatient.
"They're different here."
You don't catch yourself in time:
"So are you."
-x-
"This is nice, isn't it?" you ask. It's midmorning; it's always midmorning. The jays are humming and roses are in bloom; the two of you are leaning into the petal-palms of the beautiful eden.
"Mhm." she murmurs, stretching her long, dream-arms. "This place is wonderful. Here, spring is every day. There isn't night. You don't get tired, or hungry, or hurt--"
There isn't love, either. You push the thought to the back of your mind.
"...That isn't what I meant."
She doesn't seem to hear.
Is all she says when you slip through the cloud-lace gates, and it's strange. The glimmer in her mismatched hazel greens, the ones that sparkled all through chemo and blood tests---there's not a trace of it. You've never seen her look more put together---more perfect. She doesn't look a day over twenty.
Absently, you feel a pang.
"I'm with you, now." you say, stepping towards her. She doesn't move. "I've waited so many years."
She smiles, and there are no lines on her skin.
-x-
"So, what have you been doing, all this time?"
She shrugs at the question, and the light hits her in such a poetic way; it streams through the blond of her hair, and you can't see yourself getting used to it any time soon.
"Living." is her reply. She's tracing over the pearl-roads aimlessly, not putting much thought into her words.
Is that all you have to say to me?
"I can't really say that I've been living," you find yourself saying. "Because it just wasn't the same without you. Fifty years-"
"Mm. A long time, huh?"
Normally, you might've yelled, felt hurt claw at your rattling bones.
You don't feel a thing.
-x-
"Oh, why don't we go horse-riding?"
You stare at her skeptically for a moment, a cleanly-arched eyebrow raising itself. "I thought you were afraid of them?"
She shakes her fairy-head quickly, although she doesn't look upset or impatient.
"They're different here."
You don't catch yourself in time:
"So are you."
-x-
"This is nice, isn't it?" you ask. It's midmorning; it's always midmorning. The jays are humming and roses are in bloom; the two of you are leaning into the petal-palms of the beautiful eden.
"Mhm." she murmurs, stretching her long, dream-arms. "This place is wonderful. Here, spring is every day. There isn't night. You don't get tired, or hungry, or hurt--"
There isn't love, either. You push the thought to the back of your mind.
"...That isn't what I meant."
She doesn't seem to hear.