Dawn Xiana Moon: Melodic folk pop infused with passion and honesty. From Chicago.

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Monday, January 20, 2003

Another short piece of creative writing, something of an experiment. :-)

Night's Tears

She called him a few hours after midnight and he knew that since she’d dialed in the middle of the night something had to be wrong, so he asked, “Are you okay?” because he was concerned; she didn’t usually do things like this; and all the while she was fighting to keep her voice level, but she said that she was fine, perhaps a little lonely, maybe she just needed to hear his voice; but in reality, tears were pouring down her face in quiet, wet streams; yet he never knew—all he knew was that she sounded sad, and he wanted to reach through the distance and hold her, to tell her that she shouldn’t be upset; just because their conversation ninety minutes ago had ended in an aura of gloom didn’t mean that their relationship was about to fall apart, because it happened to everyone sometimes, but she refused to say why she was hurting, and he didn’t know what to do—her heart was aching and the tears were relentless: If only… her mind cried, but she couldn’t tell him, even as he asked again and waited in the silence for an answer—she needed him to ask an entirely different question; she needed him to allow her into a part of his life that he would not, could not share with her, no matter how much she wanted to join—but without the invitation she would be forcing her way in, the uninvited, unwanted guest that no one would be able to refuse; but maybe she was being melodramatic—why does this mean so much to you?—it wouldn’t make sense to anyone else; it wouldn’t make sense to him—actually, it was ridiculous, but not to her—music meant everything to her; he was confused, but didn’t know how to penetrate the walls she’d hidden her thoughts behind; instead, she won momentary control, smiled through the tears and said, “Write me a song at practice tomorrow,” but collapsed the second he was off the line.

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