Gemini Awry

The October wind whipped through the dying trees. Inside the great old townhouse Pia stared sadly at the face that seemed to be sleeping so peacefully beside her. Tia's face. Even though she had closed the eyes a while ago, their penetrating gaze was as vivid in her mind as it had always been. Nothing could erase the memory of those blue eyes, of their fine luster and their influence on her every thought, word and gesture. With a trembling flick of fingers she wiped a wisp of honey colored hair away from the high cold forehead so like her own.

The voice of the wind became bolder, more insistent. Its cold breath rattled against the old windows. Was it calling Tia's name, mourning her passing? So it seemed to Pia as she listened to its wail, her eyes focusing on the big bay window that faced the cold and empty street. The sisters had been so close and so alike that even their thoughts seemed to flow from one shared mind, their deeds from the very same heart. Pia was overwhelmed at the thought that she could never speak to her again of their most intimate needs and desires. How could all that be turned off and forgotten after all these years, like lost water dripping down a leaky faucet?

Lovingly, she stroked the curly hair. She wept softly in the merciful dark for this end that would bring no new beginning, no release of pain or insights into the meaning of anything at all. Emptiness and desolation. That's all there was now. Tia had been her life and now Tia was irrevocably dead. The tears rushed unchecked down her wrinkled cheek. More than a part of her knew that they would never stop.