by
Bradley Brett



Everybody's racing now, don't you hear their laughter as they frolic amongst the reeds, with the sound of water wading at their feet. It is a beautiful sound, of merriment and wonder. The skies burn like fire, streams of orange and reds, which overlook the waters edge; and if by breathing, the water is taken aback, only to be released from its lock, washing upon the sandy shore.

Cranes fly above us, soaring on soft air currents which caress our cheeks and soothe our weary souls. At this point in time, nothing else mattered but the time we had with each other; and when the birds flew, that meant only one thing. One thing which could be heard in the enjoyment of the children as they played, splashing cold bursts of water from their hands, wetting the nearest target, who in a squeal of embarrassment and revenge, would fire back in reprimand.

There is a boy, who sits in the corner, underneath the large acacia tree; their beautiful yellow blossoms radiating by the brilliance of the sunset sitting along the horizon. Unlike the other children, he remains in solemn silence, eyes closed and mind escaping into another world. A world unlike his own, where the only thing which truly mattered was that he could be himself.

Like wings, his dreams rapture his miniature body, into the bright sunlight of dusk, he escapes. The voices of the others drown out in the sweet sonata ringing in his ears. It is beautiful. So beautiful. The soft wind surges over his facade, his hair in fray and lips dry and cracked.

Sickly fingers place themselves on his shoulder and he feels the shudder of what's to come. The secret, which stains his tongue, a bad taste in which in is unable to remove. Everything is subtle; he knew it couldn't always be like this, yet with the pants of his begotten heart, the boy feels himself slipping.

The boy's mother stands on the edge of the water; its salty fragrance hitting her face is soft pellets of spray. Her tresses fell across her forehead, for the love for her children seemed endless. She spies her son, sitting by the acacia, and a tear glistens in her emerald eyes.

Everybody knows it will happen. They knew before they could even recognize it. Yet something tugged at their own conscience bodies. Was it fate, or the longing of false hope? He had stolen their hearts, now he, was going to steal his.

Yet as they frolicked amongst the ocean, the final day of summer seemed endless. It was going to end, it had to. Autumn was around the corner, and soon, everything would slowly change in the currents of longing.

Next to the boy, sat a young girl. Her golden hair captured the brilliance of the sun. She held him in her arms, never letting him go from their sweet embrace. It was meant to be forever. Just the two of them, always together under the setting sun. From the tangle of waves they saw the fins rising and descending into the dark depths. The youngest of children laughed and giggled, the mesmerizing currents leading to a brilliant crescendo. It raised, the single whisper of love and beauty, capturing their hearts, their love and their innocence. Yet as the children grew in happiness, the young boy remained silent, her beautiful arms touching his solemn body; and his soul.

The smell of the barbeque stained the air. The boy's father stood, with sizzling sausages and steaks, the scent touching their tongues; mouth's watering to the tip. He watched his wife, the beautiful figure who danced upon the shoreline. To stay like this, was the only thing he ever needed.

Yet he saw his son, among the trees and shrubbery, crying himself to sleep. They were all floating on air, just living in the moment. His son hid amongst the bushes, watching the ocean himself, wishing to break free like the waves as they reached for the sky, their icy fingers clasping to the setting sun.

The sausages smoldered, smoke rising into the already flaming sky. The clouds surrounded the sun, like rising ash, and roaring fires asunder, the skies brilliance was unlike any they had seen. Never in memory were they to see a sky so captivating, so escaping. Yet the boy among the acacia's knew. The boy knew he would be leaving on the eve of autumns love, as it tainted the sky. He loved them all with a pure heart, and just as summer was leaving, so was he.

The girl embraced him for the final time as his soul ebbed like the washing tide. His brilliant blues shut, his love vanishing amongst the currents which remained visceral around their bodies. With a whisper, he was gone. The girl kissed his forehead, her tears streaking her cheeks as the cries from the boy's mother shattered the perfect visage.

As the boy left them, so did she, and with her outstretched arms, she would embrace him forever. For they were one, and would always be. And as they frolicked amongst the ebbing tide, they knew very well, that their brother was gone. Yet even though they knew it to be inevitable, their hearts had never remained so heavy; and as the cranes flew above their heads, they swore they reached for the heavens.

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