(This is the first entry of a serial prose piece, “Ariel and Her Miseries”. I’ll upload a segment once a week. Cheers -bjc)
Of meetings in the rain
It was raining when the stranger appeared. Her hair was a colour of undistinguishable hue but if you were to chance upon her that night and peered closer, you would have seen a dance of fairy wings adorning her scalp. Her gait was inhuman, divine, her toes barely wetting themselves on the flooded cobblestone steps. The storm seemed to part like a curtain before her body. She was a creature familiar with the wrath of a tempest.
This was how I came to meet her, chancing in the safety of my room, high above the dangers of the streets, the night, and the rain, encumbered by concrete, curtain and glass, watching with the shameless ardour of a voyeur. This was how I came to fall in love. And with the blow of that undeniable certainty did she turn upon me and smiled.
In her smile, how can I recount properly with words that slip through the mind of the mad and the desperate? In her smile, I glimpsed a fairy tale island far far away. I saw myself fleshed as a shipwrecked prince finding love for the first time in a savage land. I saw myself a king whose throat has gone hoarse, whose feet has grown numb, whose heart has been teetering at that slippery slope of despair, finally reunited with his son. And then finally, I saw myself a wizened sorcerer breaking his staff and forgiving all faults, going back home to his country which before scorned him but now opens its arms to embrace. In her eyes I saw myself alive in stories and words.
No sooner did our eyes meet, my chest collapse ten times over itself, my hopes rise to the highest echelons of heaven and fall to the deepest caverns of hell, did she suddenly disappear. Where are you? I thought to myself, scrambling all over that unequivocal memory of that split second gaze. Suddenly, I was again alone staring into the opaque curtain of rain.
© 2012 Jay Crisostomo IV