Tales from the Outer Town

The lovers

Soft steps wander trough the forest at night, fleeing slowly only to return in the morning. She was the fool to think they could break this habit, that they could go further and never come back. He had never known her name, yet every night he met her by the tree that is reaching to the moon. She had never known his name, yet she allowed him to sit side by side with him, understanding every word they exchanged. They talked about the stars, the night, the dreams, the blinded eyes, but never about the coming dawn. He was well known by the creatures of the day, yet they never talked about it either. The creatures with their empty eyes and clutching hands, they never knew he was not one of them, that in the chaos of their light, he was the hermit of the night. Never they could leave any further without returning to the scorching sun, kisses in the dark washed away from unimportant words spoken in the day. So one night, she brought a gift, and he agreed, for the strangers in the woods understood every word they told each other. They tied the knot and so escaped, holding hands as they were hanging side by side in loving night. In transition to eternity, a last kiss was stolen from her lips, knowing they would call them madmen, and diseased, and lovers, two strangers hanging in the light; and in their world they we're right. But the night is no world of the creatures, but the haven for the lovers.