Microfiction inspired by two well-known sayings and a recent band festival with someone important ✨
The wild scream of the guitar ripped down his spine, surging like power in his veins. Dominion, utter and absolute electricity, was what their music held over the night.
. . . 1984.
That was the last time he saw her, and all he could recall were a few, sparse details of how she looked, before she’d faded from his life. Shiny curls and almond skin, and a frame so thin it bordered on frailty. Those details he could recall, and the very last question he asked.
“Heyyy,” her voice broke on a beach of uncertainty as she edged up beside him, eyes a strange elixir of warm and aloof. He regretted saying no to hugs and photos when she had asked over the phone a week ago. But only because he wanted to touch her now, to make sure she was real.
And only because he wanted new memories of anything but that fucking question.
“Hey.” He allowed the sudden burst of heat in his chest to reach his eyes at the sight of her.
Your time is almost up.
They had met over two decades ago, both living a charmed life of naïve optimism. Just two strange kids, sheltered and unsophisticated, who shared a love for folk music, and stargazing, and each other.
“You look great,” he added, almost a beat too late. “. . . Life has been kind.”
The wry regard she gave him slipped into something that lingered, her eyes and mouth filled with stories he wanted badly to taste. Then she broke the moment with a nervous smile as she turned her attention towards the stage.
“You look good too.”
He only just heard those words, swimming soft and slow under the thunderous gathering that threatened to crush them from all sides.
Burn into obscurity.
The energy in the air shifted then, as the chords of the next song opened out over the crowd. Atmospheric and full of emotion. It cast a spell and a shadow over his senses, and when she collided with him, jostled by bodies moving in and out of the throng, it didn’t help the feeling.
He watched her reach for his arm to steady herself, and all he could think of was the realness of her flesh, and what he had once asked her to do.
You’re so much more.
So much more.