a short story, by Michael Sherrillo
High above me you sit, like a princess from a storybook. Even from below, I can see you beauty, blinded at first by it's force, thinking I'd gazed mistakenly up at the sun. Then, slowly you come into focus, framed up there against the bright sky and drifting clouds. I blink once, twice to make sure my eyes arn't decieving me. Each closing, the few seconds you spend out of my sight, seem to last far to long; and still your there. Details begin to come into focus, hair, the color and texture of cornsilk, being swept back by the hight softly blowing breeze. The way you seem to radiate a light of your own, skin softly glowing with beauty. Eye's, even from here I can tell how captivating they are. They are not the type eyes you merely look at, these are the eyes you fall into, lost and drowning in their and depths, only to be resurrected by their passion and honesty. If true beauty lay in the soul, then for the first time in my life, I believe I have seen somthing truly beautiful. I can only reach up in a futil gesture, wishing you gaze could see me, down here, so very far below. But even if you were here next to me, a part of me knows that I could never truly touch where you exist. The look on your face, I know that we are two lonly travelers of the same sort, each passing through life, hoping to find that one thing which we can cling to, to anchor our wandering souls as we drift on the currents of time. Could you ever see me... somehow I think not, I am just a passing shadow in your eyes. To be worthy of you glance, I need more than just to love you. A glass slipper, a slayed dragon, or a perfect kiss while you sleep; these are the tokens which should win you. You deserve a knight, a prince, a hero... not me. I have no greater desire than to spend the rest of my life, standing in this very spot seeing you. But, like the fading changing beauty of seasons passing, so do you anwser some silent call, and all to quickly vanish from view. I stand for a while longer, just gazing up at the spot where you once were. Maybe minuets, maybe hours, time left long ago, but as the shadows grew long and the wind grew brisk, I felt the tug of the world calling me back. So, pulling my coat a little tighter against the twilight's chill, I turned away, and without looking back, walked on. Only to late would I feel the sensation of being watched, longed for, of being silently called. But before I could turn back, I knew it was gone. Had I looked, I would only have seen the slight sway of a curtain falling back into place. As I walked, I could almost see the building and the single lit window on it's top floor slowy shrinking and fading from view, until I finally turned a last corner, and they were gone behind me forever. The current of time pulled on, and each of us, wandering, lost, drifting, and alone... were swallowed by the darkness of the encroaching night.