"T'was how I loved your sweet summer breath," said Aaron, as he confoundedly stared at Evangeline's grave, and dare I say he did not shed a tear.
"How we both lay hand-in-hand in that frostbitten meadow. You warming my soul with your cursive voice. Although that was many moons ago, I once again stand here on the eve of your death. This forsaken meadow has not visibly changed a bit, but the emotion here has. The birds can feel; they bear your sorrow like weights upon their wings."
As Aaron took a glimpse of the waxing moon, he recalled the last night he had with his darling Evangeline, and how she told him great tales of the moon.
"The Moon is the mother of the night sky, and she guards the stars in the dark witching hours of the sinful night," he said to himself, remembering what his truelove had once said.
Those few sinful hours, he thought. What black witch had done this to his fragile heart; the witch he could blame for the fog-drawn road that night? The thickset fog had obstructed her view and the 1924 Lincoln had veered into the ditch on that old road yonder. And just as that moment hit, Aaron, who was sitting shotgun, knew that his life had shattered into a million little pieces. Just like the motorcar's windshield did, as the broken birch limb came crashing down toward the driver's seat of the car.
He didn't go to the funeral, for the farmworkers were never invited. Their relationship had become a rendezvous after the day her father had forbid him to see her.
It started with profound love letters placed on the sill of her window at sundown. Soon, the separation had become too much for them to bear. They could not signify their emotion towards each other in such tedious letters. Furthermore, they decided that every Thursday at dusk, they would slip away to their quaint pasture, hidden behind the heather-grown moorland.
They would stay there for hours confiding in each other's thoughts, waiting for the morning dew to signal them back to their separate lives. But no, the night of the accident was different. They did not await the sweet drops on the damp grass. They had other plans, and Evangeline had wasted no time to say what she had proposed for this dark night.
"Aaron," whispered Evangeline. "I am truly in love with you," she said honestly, with a sense of passion within her voice.
"I cannot express how great my love is for you, as it continually grows inside me; swelling my heart past its own capacity."
"Undoubtedly, I feel the same way towards you my love," Aaron spoke unhesitatingly.
Evangeline paused for a moment to think. She lay back onto the cool grass, and gazed into the night sky. After a few quiet minutes, she sat up, starry-eyed, and her cheeks rosy from the cold. "The stars, are they not just beautiful tonight? See that constellation there? Andromeda it is called. It's a story about the daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopeia. One day her parents chained her to a rock off the coast of the ocean in exchange for forgiveness from the king of the gods. The king had planned for a sea monster to retrieve her for him, and bring her back to his castle in the sky," she said, and took a small break, inhaling the bitter-sharp air. Aaron waited in anticipation for Evangeline to finish the story.
"While Andromeda was chained to the rock, a man by the name Perseus flew by, and saw the distressed maiden. He stopped to question her, and in doing to, he felt love at first sight. He freed her from the bearings of the seaside rock, and they were never to be seen again," Evangeline finished quietly.
"Oh won't you be my Perseus, Aaron? Let us run. Run till the dawn and beyond. Let the stars guide us. We could elope."
Aaron sat there is astonishment. "Runaway against your own father's wishes, and marry a stable boy like me?"
"Of course. Because I love you, and you love me. What more is there to life without the one you hold so dear? We shall borrow my father's car without his knowing, and go where the motley wind takes us," she said.
"If that is your soul's desire, I will not convince you otherwise. I have nothing to lose but you my dove. Let us leave this vapid countryside, and uproot a new life together as one," Aaron complied.
And so they were off. They went back to the house and started the loud engine of her father's car. "I hope the roar of the engine had not awaken father," said Evangeline, worriedly, sitting in the driver seat.
"It will have not mattered if it had my darling; we will have been as far as the bridge by the time he would notice we were gone," Aaron said assuring.
They had turned the bend, and the fog had become thicker. Evangeline had gained speed and they continued down the road. Suddenly, a night owl had swooped in front of the car, almost hitting the windshield. Evangeline skew across the road to the left avoiding the bird, but then the unthinkable occurred.
Enough of the past. Now only two years on that very day, Aaron had returned to their meadow in mourning. Over those last few years without her he had grown farther from her slowly over time; her laugh echoing in the back of his mind. Aaron had decided that this would be the end. The end of remembering and the end of the memories. The end of mourning. He flashed her grave an innocent smile, and turned away. It was silent. The only sound was of his footsteps treading on the cool grass, as he left his Evangeline behind.
The End.
