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Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #1613795
Every day for a week I wrote a short story of whatever I was thinking about.
She sits at the window and tries to figure it out. What it is, she doesn’t know, maybe it is life or maybe just a simple answer. The harder she struggles with the answer, the more it eludes her. Confusion drowns her, the closer she gets to an answer the more questions that are raised. Wait, what was that, around the corner?

A shadow flits across the way; she can almost make out a form. Tall and slender, it seems almost human but somehow it’s wrong, there is something off. The thing, the shadow is, beautiful? Like there is a light that shines from the heart of the thing, whatever it is. A light within a shadow. What does that mean? How can there be light in the darkness? Is there hope she wonders, perhaps the answer can be found.

The thing, the shadow moved, slowly inching it’s way into clearer view. She gasped; there were no words to describe it. Her heart sang with joy at seeing this being, whatever it was. Then slowly, ever so slowly a shadowy hand reached out, and beckoned, as if waiting for her to join it.

Almost unknowingly, she raised her hand, reaching out to the being. Then, their hands connected and everything made sense.

She knew.

She knew the reason she searched.

She knew the question and even the answer that went along with said question.

She knew.
© Copyright 2009 Iris Aria (irisaria at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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