I Neither Grammar Syntax Nor Syntax Grammar

            The air is cold, and the ground was damp from the sky's tears. The moon illuminates the shivering trees. In the distance, the sound of a mourning lover named Kore can be heard. Her long dark hair sticking to her red tear-stained face as she finally falls asleep. Kore dreams of her love and her smile, and for a moment, she is at peace. Only for a moment. It is when Kore wakes in the dark morning that the peace is gone, for only in her sleep can she see her love now gone from existence. She lies there, contemplating how she will go about the day alone in this house. In this empty house. The house is a small cottage located on the outskirts of a village. There was a garden in the backyard that Kore had grown with the help of her lover. The garden had an assortment of fruits, vegetables, and herds, along with a small patch of narcissus flowers. Kore once thought the flowers pretty because they reminded her of her lover, but now they were a cold reminder of how lonely she was. The cottage used to be warm and filled with love and laughter. Now it seemed colder... emptier.

            The sound of laughter now replaced with silent cries and whimpers. The cottage used to be bright but now seemed to have lost the saturation of its color. The sun is starting to rise, and the birds are waking and singing their happy songs, seemingly unaware of the grief that Kore is going through. She finally drags herself out of her bed, thinking that she'll attempt to try and go through a normal day. Kore starts by getting herself clean, and then she chooses one of her only clean dresses. She'll have to do the laundry and other chores, but first, she leaves the house wanting to get away from its deafening cold silence. As she walks to the now waking village, Kore tries to put on a smile, a mask. She only learns that she failed at this when talking to the baker.

            The baker is a kind man with a loving wife and kids. Kore had come for some bread, and the baker had started a friendly conversation. Other than her lover, the baker and his family were the only ones in the village that knew her. He had seen right through Kore's mask and asked, with concern, if she was ok. She held the tears back and forced the classic line that everyone not ok says... "I'm fine." Kore wouldn't allow herself to cry. Kore couldn't because she knew that if she started to cry, she wouldn't be able to stop. She would be crying forever. Kore got her bread and made a few more stops. Kore then walks home alone, trying to ignore the empty space next to her where a kind girl had once walked with her.

            Once she is home, Kore puts away the bread and other things she got and starts to clean. Kore hasn't cleaned in a few days. She does the laundry, which seems to be more painstakingly annoying than it used to be. She then sweeps the floor even though she doesn't feel like doing anything. Kore hasn't felt like doing anything in a long time. Everything seems to drain her energy. Kore continues to do things around the house before finally making herself dinner. Making dinner or any food for that matter was also draining to her. Kore makes her dinner small because she knows she won't eat very much. She doesn't eat much because she seems to feel more nauseous more often and partly because she has lost her appetite. Kore is waiting for the food to cook, she sits her mind for the most part, seemingly empty of thought. The emptiness doesn't last long, though. It eventually gets taken over by thoughts. Thoughts of grief, loneliness. And another thought, one too dark to speak of. One that Kore has had to ignore many times before and once again ignores it. While she is brokenhearted, she will not entirely give in to this darkness. Instead, she eats her dinner and then goes for a walk that really isn't what one would call a walk. It was more like she was running, and she was. Kore left her house with only her jacket and started out walking. Slowly but surely, her walk becomes something in between jogging and speed walking, but shortly after, she starts sprinting in a burst of grief. She runs and runs and runs through the forest. The trees and ferns becoming blurs in her vision—everything flying by her as she runs from her empty home. Kore finally stops running when she gets exhausted. It is only then that she notices that the sun has set. She looks around frantically as she is now suddenly very aware of the sound of her breathing and heartbeat. The sounds of the frogs and crickets seem so much louder now, and the dark seems a bit darker. Kore's mind is racing almost as fast as her heart. The darkness of the night has made the forest look unfamiliar. At first, Kore is afraid, but she hears something.

            Something that slowly calms her. The sound of water. She inhales. The air is tinted with the smell of salt and damp sand. Kore follows the sound of the water to find herself walking on cool sand. She looks in front of her and sees waves coming in and out of the sand. She looks around for a bit, walking along the beach in the dead of night. She's back in that empty place in her head again, the one with no thoughts and emotions. The one that you go to after you've had a good cry and your hair is sticking to your skin. The one where your nose is red from the rough toilet paper you use to wipe away the snot. Kore stays in the numb trance until she spots lights in the distance. She picks up her pace a little now, being hyper-aware of how cold it is.

            Kore starts to be able to make out the shapes of windows and buildings. As she gets closer and closer, she begins to recognize the buildings. Kore realizes she is walking through her old home town, the one where she had spent her childhood before she moved when she was a young adult. Kore had not been in the town in 6 years. She meanders through the town. A lot has changed since she last walked around her old home. There were more boats and ships at the docks, and the streets seemed so much busier now. She keeps walking without fully realizing where she was heading. Kore walks for a while before stopping at a house. The lights are off, and it's abandoned. No one had lived there for years.

            Kore hesitates for a moment, but then she walks into the house and explores her old childhood home. It had changed. The wooden floors were more creaky then they used to be, and the house no longer smelled the way it used to. It used to smell like burning wood and bread dough. Now it smelled musty and old like an antique shop. Kore stops and sits in her old room for a time. Here is where she finally lets it all out. Yes, she had cried before, but those times she had forced herself to stop. Those times she had run from how she was feeling. This time she let herself cry. She cried. She cried for the loss of her love. She cried about her empty house. And she cried because she knew that nothing would ever be the same again. Everything is always changing, as everything is always aging. It is here that she decides to go back to her home. It is here she decides that yes, nothing will be the same again, but she won't let that overcome her still. It is here that she decides to live once again and to the fullest.