The Tear Drop (Chapter 3, page 1 of 8)


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Chapter 3

I must have been kneeling in the grass for hours, as that, the fiery yellow sun had faded in the distant sky to a cool red disc. Against all hope I had waited to see if my lady of the meadow would reappear, knowing that it was highly unlikely that she would. And though time does not heal all wounds-in truth I find it has little to do with the healing process-it certainly presents us with other items of thought. Presently, I was overcome with a longing for home, wherever that may be. My original plan of finding my identity was renewed. I thought of those pet dogs that, while lacking in understanding, were moved by instinct to and familiarity in finding their way home when lost. Maybe I too could benefit from this providential feature nature is graced with. So, I got up from where I sat and moved towards the forest.

Finding a large gap in the trees where a path led, I entered the woods. It was dark but not so dark so that I couldn't see. The sky outside the forest was still red. The day was not yet through though I anticipated night soon. It was a strange thing that the amnesia, being as thorough as it was, had knocked the memory of 'night' out of me, but not the 'sense' of it. For I knew the day changed into night just as a person changes into a different set of clothes, but that was the whole of it. Night was a mere word to me. And so in scanning the interior of the woods I spotted an area of ground hidden in the shadow of its tree towering above it. "That's what night must be like," I thought to myself. The hue of the darkest light stretching from land to sky and back again. Calming the nerves by veiling what grabs one's attention with a brilliant presence. A glow instead of a shine. At peace with what the eyes have not known in the day.

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