It Started Last Summer: A One-Shot Contest

Entry 28

The Placebo Effect

It was Month of July, Friday's afternoon was warm, and silent. The sun was about to meet her set in a very quick phase that made me uncertain about the exact time of dusk's arrival—which was quite unusual as I often aware of its duration.

Later on, my eyes closed in sync, allowing the smell of common fragrance of my own heartbreak painfully allure my senses. Moments passed, then air whispered, and my hair danced slightly by its caresses. I breathed in deeply, then exhaled, resumed the process until my breathing pattern normalized. Soon I smiled, pleased as my thoughts finally gone with the wind.

With both hands crossed underneath my head, my back against the floor, and legs clung to another, my eyes adjusted in a renewed sight as they cracked open once more, where they noticed the color of tangerine and its desperate attempt of covering the seemingly embarrassed nude sky above—as if served as its bedsheets, preserving the bluish sky's remaining decency, hiding the remnants of just ended day-long making-love session of it with the sun.

I bursted out a chuckle, manifested a smile after, then wished that I could see the identical reaction of myself. But sentient of the obvious difference between the ocean and the sky—though both blue in appearance, I just finally decided to fall into my feet from laying—ages long, on the cemented floor.

As the sky grew darker, I finally sauntered—both of my hands firmly placed inside my penny-less pockets—but only to be ended shortly by a series of loud, reverberating noise coming from metal chains from afar that isolated me and locked me up from the rest of the world, vociferously telling me that someone else might be here on the rooftop, besides me.

Eyes narrowed, I observed the premise for any unforeseen guest, until my eyes finally landed into a lady, running as almost hanging freely on the air for the gust of wind blew her shirt relentlessly, oblivious of my serious glare, seeing her desperation of getting into somewhere.

I was stunned—not for the fact that someone was here with me, but because of her glinting eyes that cast a glimpse at mine, which my heart responded in a hard way. My mind automatically processed a question of what's happening, but before I even come up with any answer or conclusion, she already broke our connection in an instant and heartless way, while my eyes, foolishly remained on her.

She never glanced back. And it wasn't until her shadow got out of my sight that I finally recovered from sudden longing for another connection. Silence then became my temporary refuge as I was torn between giving her her privacy or talking to her. Soon, I was pushed by my curiosity and chose the latter, and found myself stealthily walking towards her.

I found her watching the final glimpse of sunset, standing at the edge of the rooftop where her hands loosely holding the railings.

I reduced the distance cautiously and stilled few meters away from her when she spoke.

"I wonder... what it would be like to be the sun? To be seen as both the epitome of end and the promise of a new beginning?" Her voice was tranquil even though it was roughened by her tears and irregular breathing.

My eyes fell upon the side view of her, clearly seeing the sharpness of her nose. It took me a moment and a gulp, to finally make a reply. "I'm sorry... But I don't know either."

She turned her head towards me and I was hit by her charming face with swollen eyes, reddened cheeks and lips. Then she spoke: "I'm sorry too, if ever I disturbed you." She then smiled, and it was as if she expected my answer, the way her eyes kept staring at me.

With the same position, but not the same feeling as before, I said, "You don't have to say sorry, since the truth is, I was about to walk downstairs. Only that, you came."