Allison stood, half-blinded by the drowsy sun, only to be reminded that she had promised mother that she would be but only an hour. Hastily, she folded Joshua’s letter, slipping it into her gown. Preoccupied with thoughts of punishment for her disobedience, Allison sprinted along the lush evergreen valley that separated her innocence from her youth. How she longed to be held by the river where they had first made love. How she could hardly breathe at the utterance of his absence. Who am I? She would frequently ask herself. Where is my independent spirit that guided me in my youth? My misguided sense of adventure, with but few concerns for my well-being? Her heart had suffered the slings and arrows of defeat. There would be no victory to boast of. No ceremony to address her triumph over heartbreak. There would be only despair to accompany her bedside at overdue hours of the night.
It was getting late. The sun had already spoken its goodbyes over the horizon. In the distance, Allison could hear her mother calling. Her voice was hoarse with a rather unstable tone that had failed to sprout wings, but managed by means of sheer force to drift coarsely about the relaxed evening breeze, instilling chill as it washed over the meadow.
The temperature allowed room for but a few mistakes. Allison possessed a thin figure that held loosely over her pale, fragile shoulders a worn-down velvet gown better suited for the aged and unattractive. Untrained and never before exposed to class, she carried her figure almost lifelessly. Her hair was elegant by persuasion of its wavy, taupe-colored complexion, which hung at shoulders length. Her eyes where a subtle hue of green; paired with a glossy coat to tempt the innocent.
Nothing lay heavier on Allison’s conscious than her frailty, and more than ever, as the days faded to night without the loving embrace of her beloved Joshua, she felt ugly and unable. How could this happen? She thought. How could I let him slip out of my life? How could I let him leave me here, and for what- to sulk in my misery? I love him, but if only I didn’t, if only forgetting was undemanding of an audience.
She was now in sight of her mother. A broad woman of thirty years, wed to nothing more than poverty. And it showed. From the blue rages crudely knitted to form a makeshift gown, to the mesh lace headband tattered and faded, firmly holding up her grays. Nothing represented poverty more prominently than the almost visible odor leaking out from under her gown. She would say “bathing is a luxury for the rich.”
“Allison! She barked. “To whom do we owe the honor of your late arrival?”
“No one, Mother-I apologize.” Replied Allison obediently.
“Is that so Allison?” She snarled. “Or were you out prowling, as God knows is forbidden? Now Allison, I met a young gentleman in town today.” Her voice was conceited, as if she had outdone herself. “He is wealthy and most interested in meeting you, and for heaven’s sake, do yourself a favor and forget about that Joshua!”
Those words “forget Joshua” never did settle well with dinner that night. She lay restlessly awake, her eyes fixed upon the heavens. She had hoped superstition would befriend a sorrowful sight and give birth to a miracle. However, the lackluster sky remained uneventful.
