Still Water

The clouds were grey in the distance, winds threatened with their long howling, but the water was still.

Like a plate of glass, there was an eye of water surrounded by white salt and black dirt. Inside the pond, four husks held as still as the water. The former trees stood crooked, as was their nature. The remains of their branches reached each other, seeking light.

She was atop the highest branch, looking at the storms. The storms had never touched the pond, and would never do, but they were closer than last season. She clutched her knees, and looked down to her pond. She was still waiting.

She descended to the pond surface, her foot touched the edge of the water but she made no ripple at all. The cold water reminded her of the last time she saw him and all his friends. As the cold reached her chest she remembered again how he used to sing to her. His voice was soft, chirpy and flowy. But it had been so long she could not remember the song fully. She began humming an echo of the melody.

Back then the sun showered light every day. He flew in at the break of dawn and reposed on the second to last branch on the shortest tree. He hid his gaunt silhouette between the leaves and waited for her to dance. She never started before he arrived.

His white plumes swayed as he sang, and she danced delicately, the pond shifted and rippled around with her moves. Splashes of water jumped upwards, caressing the leaves of the lower branches. He raised his song. She danced with the piercing lights of the sky, she flew with the morning winds and she finished with a graceful landing over his favorite branch. Surprising both of them.

By then all of the friends had woken up. The frogs on the shore jumped, imitating her. The bees danced, landing from flower to flower, shaking the lilies near the edge. The foxes sat next to the water, giving full attention with their wise eyes. He remained in the shadows of the leaves, smiling at her. She always worried about his foreboding smiles, but the days were alive.

The days were joy until the black clouds came. Taller than thunder clouds, they covered the land and stole the sun away. The loudest of thunders came with no lightning accompanying them. The pond trembled from unknown winds. The frigid air followed. The water became still in fear of the storms.

She looked presently at the pond, the cold skies reflected nothing but a pale gray. All other colors had long been taken away by the dark skies. She looked up at the covering clouds, wishing to feel sunlight again.

After the sun vanished, storms brewed outside her oasis without an end, but he always came back to her. He sang his beautiful melody, bringing sparks of sunshine in these darkened days. She danced, and the water followed in spite of its fear.

Each passing day it became colder. The sun, a distant memory, but he sang, and she danced. His voice was weak, but he sang twice to make up for it.

The days became longer, and sometimes he would not come. The days he did, he would have a sorrowful face, looking around where the foxes and frogs used to play. She danced even when he couldn\'t sing.

The last day she saw him, he told her he would come back. He flew down the now leafless husk of the tree and embraced her, dancing awkwardly together. He wanted to learn her dance, and he would bring back the sun to show her.

The pond now just waved softly from the cold winds, its surface a crystal on the verge of breaking. It had been decades or centuries or eons, she cared little for how time passed. Dancing was useless in this dead pond.

She remained above the surface of the water, her reflection looked back at her, trying to decipher what to do with her lonely existence. The husks cracked, threatening finally to collapse. She closed her eyes and curled above the water, she remained still. A warm breeze flew in from the farthest lands. It came low, hiding from the storms. When it reached the spring, it rushed through the dead trees before finally expiring. A chord spoke from them.

She knew the chord, it was his song. She stood up from her slumber and hummed the chord again. The memory grew again as she sang the second chord. The song blossomed from the third one, and by the fifth she puppeteered a memory of his melody.

The warm song filled her body, she extended her arms against the wind and she twirled as before. Her feet sprang open in a beautiful jump, and she landed over the water. The water splashed for the first time again. She lifted her arms to the sky, flying between the trees as they whistled a vamp to her song. From the whistling, the sky opened for a moment, and a beam of light glowed on her pond.

The warmth hugged her shape, she closed her eyes in joy. She gave every step she knew over the water as it splashed and jumped towards the beam of light. She saw the flowers, the animals and the smiling winds once more. His gleaming silhouette danced around her and she spun over the water, she spun splashing the salt, splashing the trees. She spun, feeling herself being pulled everywhere all at once. The warm beam gifted her a radiant smile. She was full, she was everywhere.

The beam closed on the spring and the winds began slowing down. The pond finished its dance, leaving only small splashes and ripples. The wrinkles on the surface danced for a long time, one last time. The storms would never touch this place, it swayed for the final time, and then the water was still.