Estoria
This old field spreading beyond the suburbs of San Dique is the only place where I still feel his presence.
It seems if I would look to my side, Vin would be there: sprawled across the grass, climbing a tree, or watching deer graze from afar. It feels like our eyes would meet, and he would give me that meek smirk of his before telling me the accident was just an elaborate prank. That the past six months were never real.
I'm standing on a hill, overlooking the stretches of meadows occupied by farmers. The sunset paints the sky a beautiful blend of rose, gold, and coral. The wavelets of wind are cool on my skin, and it feels, for a moment, that I could forget. I've always loved watching the sunset here, but I can't recall an instance when Vin wasn't watching it with me.
The world changes everyday, yet the sky will always remain constant. The scene is fixed in my mind, so vivid and colourful it would cling to me my whole life. The field, the breeze, the sunset. And my boyfriend.
It's been a few weeks since I visited this spot. I thought I finally had my life in order, one without any traces of Vin, but it's evident that I'm still not detached from the events of the night I lost him. Six months have passed, and the memories still haunt me. I don't know if they'll ever stop.
It's after I'm swaying lightly to the music that I realise there's violin playing somewhere. I don't know how someone found this desolate spot, but I don't turn back to look. I don't want to mess with the blissful sense of relief this music seems to infuse. I don't want this person to stop playing because of my interruption.
The tune swells and cascades over beautiful verses. It suddenly turns sharp, almost as if the song is catching its breath, and spills into a beautiful melody. I stand on the hill, relishing in the sunset and the song, until it slowly withers. Silence rings in my ears once again. I sigh, and turn back to see who was playing.
A tall, shadowy figure stands at the bottom of the hill. The sunset illuminates its pale skin, a wispy shadow creeping behind it like a trail. I push my long dark hair behind my shoulders and walk down the grassy path.
Upon drawing closer I realise it's a man. He's rather skinny for his height, wearing a patterned, knitted sweater and black trousers. His curly caramel hair falls over his face; I can't imagine how he's able to see anything with it getting in eyes. A small wooden violin rests in his hands, and the bow is tucked clumsily in his elbow as he adjusts the metal dials.
The stranger notices me approaching him, and looks up from his violin. His face blooms into a smile, and it causes my heart to skip a beat. When others smile, they're expressing something. But his smile looks like it's saying something; silently calling me. Our eyes meet, and his gaze feels like it's peeking directly into my soul.
I've never had a stranger do that to me. Well, not since.....
I attempt to break our awkward staring contest by offering a small smile in return. His vibrant sweater compliments his thin arms and pale skin. His curly hair clouds his bright green eyes. The violin is resting snugly against his chest, and he holds it with admirable gentleness.
"Hey, that song was beautiful. Can you tell me its name?" I ask.
****
Elliot
I've been tailing her across this field for hours, but her actually noticing me makes it feel real. Just like that, I'm thrown into memory: her pale hands as I chafed life into them. Her fragile frame as I carried it to shore. The water filling my lungs, air bubbles erupting to the surface as I swam to her limp, sinking body.
