Fly Away
Picture Perfect
He sat on the edge of the cliff over looking the sea. He brushed his fingertips through the bright green blades of grass beneath him. Eyes fixed on the ripples in the water, he stared closely at the swaying flowers brushing the sea surface; not another island in sight. The sea bed ten meters from the surface; was covered in lush plants that bloomed during the day and shined brightly at night. There was musk smell of salt in the air, and the sound of waves echoed in the background.
Above him white clouds traveled above. His dark brown hair pressed gently against his face as the wind carried it; and his red jacket moved independently, violently, as though it were alive, trying to free itself from his back. The jacket meant more to him them everything else, almost as much as she did.
Collapsing on to the grass on which he sat he strained his neck upwards slowly to look at the others. Chi was waiting patiently for him, her white hair with black streaks flowing with the wind. She had a outfit that could put punk on the catwalk, a personality brighter then any other person he had met, and a tattoo of a star on her left cheek. This skinny combination of pretty and deadly blended into one, as he watched her walk slowly towards him. Sunlight and shading defining her facial features, this girl was beautiful. She stood over him, her back blocking the sun from his face. Before lowering to her knees and gently pressing her lips against his forehead. He felt the surge, the power of lust, the healing that he had longed for. They both smiled as she remained leaning over him. The bow in her hair began to flutter as Bis flapped his wings. Dark feathers blew across the faces of the companions as they sat up to face him.
This was their special place. Only two years ago had they sat at the exact spot he was in, her smile so warm. Two years ago it was a different story. Two years ago it was perfect.
His camera slung over his shoulder, swung back and forth against his chest. Each time it struck him there was a feeling of comfort as it reminded him all the photos he had taken of her. His right hand held a brown leather envelope, sealed with a piece of string. His head told him his heart was still in his chest, but his heart said it had left long ago. A message so painful he almost shed a tear.
Lucy, her name was Lucy. Floating in the sky with diamonds he would say occasionally when ever she was upset. It was a bond they shared, a personal joke. Something special between the two that no one else understood. That was what they shared. That is their story captured frame by frame; picture perfect.
Above him white clouds traveled above. His dark brown hair pressed gently against his face as the wind carried it; and his red jacket moved independently, violently, as though it were alive, trying to free itself from his back. The jacket meant more to him them everything else, almost as much as she did.
Collapsing on to the grass on which he sat he strained his neck upwards slowly to look at the others. Chi was waiting patiently for him, her white hair with black streaks flowing with the wind. She had a outfit that could put punk on the catwalk, a personality brighter then any other person he had met, and a tattoo of a star on her left cheek. This skinny combination of pretty and deadly blended into one, as he watched her walk slowly towards him. Sunlight and shading defining her facial features, this girl was beautiful. She stood over him, her back blocking the sun from his face. Before lowering to her knees and gently pressing her lips against his forehead. He felt the surge, the power of lust, the healing that he had longed for. They both smiled as she remained leaning over him. The bow in her hair began to flutter as Bis flapped his wings. Dark feathers blew across the faces of the companions as they sat up to face him.
This was their special place. Only two years ago had they sat at the exact spot he was in, her smile so warm. Two years ago it was a different story. Two years ago it was perfect.
His camera slung over his shoulder, swung back and forth against his chest. Each time it struck him there was a feeling of comfort as it reminded him all the photos he had taken of her. His right hand held a brown leather envelope, sealed with a piece of string. His head told him his heart was still in his chest, but his heart said it had left long ago. A message so painful he almost shed a tear.
Lucy, her name was Lucy. Floating in the sky with diamonds he would say occasionally when ever she was upset. It was a bond they shared, a personal joke. Something special between the two that no one else understood. That was what they shared. That is their story captured frame by frame; picture perfect.