No one looked at her, no one seemed aware of her presence; she was probing the very depths of insignificance.
And now, at home,
really quite alone
she dove into the abyss
and embraced all the darkness
it swallowed her in its comforting arms
…but what is this?
A hand reaches down and says in a disembodied voice from above, it’s really quite nice this time of year.
She makes her way to the top of the cliff and sets herself beneath the tree. There’s another here, now who is this so comfortable above the abyss?
Is he not concerned that he will be swallowed by her darkness?
This really is a new feeling, to no longer be alone. She’s made the darkness her home, and yet here he is, now holding her hand?
Perhaps he really does understand.