The end had come almost before she realized it loomed over them like the black cloud that it was. Things had been said and done that finalized the issues. Finalized the ending.
The lines were drawn and accepted. Sacrifices were made, like fresh spilled blood, staining the landscape of her heart.
It was the death of a dream.
Finalized. It was such a versatile word. It could mean so many things. Gem let it roll around in her head, and then on her tongue, the word finally leaving her mouth in a near silent whisper. It echoed, a heavy thing, as empty and lonely as a back street alley.
Poised as she was on a rooftop, overlooking the great, rambling, living beast that was Rhydin, the thief let that whispered word drop into the stretch of darkness that yawned before her crouched figure. The street down below her did not notice the weight of that awful word. The word simply faded into the blackness like a forlorn hope.
Then she moved. A lithe leap across that gaping street landed her on the adjacent rooftop, and then she was up and running on her personal "highway", into the night, into the city.
With the personal side of her life, the best of her life, in upheaval and ruin, she sought surcease in her work, as she always did when she was hurting beyond bearing. The more dangerous the risk, the more she threw herself into it, until finally, she could no longer think as much, hurt as much, or yearn as much.
Fade to black.
The lines were drawn and accepted. Sacrifices were made, like fresh spilled blood, staining the landscape of her heart.
It was the death of a dream.
Finalized. It was such a versatile word. It could mean so many things. Gem let it roll around in her head, and then on her tongue, the word finally leaving her mouth in a near silent whisper. It echoed, a heavy thing, as empty and lonely as a back street alley.
Poised as she was on a rooftop, overlooking the great, rambling, living beast that was Rhydin, the thief let that whispered word drop into the stretch of darkness that yawned before her crouched figure. The street down below her did not notice the weight of that awful word. The word simply faded into the blackness like a forlorn hope.
Then she moved. A lithe leap across that gaping street landed her on the adjacent rooftop, and then she was up and running on her personal "highway", into the night, into the city.
With the personal side of her life, the best of her life, in upheaval and ruin, she sought surcease in her work, as she always did when she was hurting beyond bearing. The more dangerous the risk, the more she threw herself into it, until finally, she could no longer think as much, hurt as much, or yearn as much.
Fade to black.