A pitch, black screen of abyssal depth encompassed my third-person view: And in the center, the dead-center, lay a small cabin-like house. It was reminiscent of one of those one-room houses, shacks, whatnot—that which were reminiscent of a lone standing domus in the desert in the old westerns. Tan, wooden, the contrasting colours of the background and the “float” made the lone soul walking in the black notice this shack even more. This shack also had a platform stand out by the door; and on the platform, by the door, was a wooden bench fit for two. He went over, He sat down, and upon sitting, he suddenly realised that the level of aural stimulation from inside this small, little shack was quite abnormal for its size. In an obvious attempt to open yet another neo-pandora’s box, the boy got up on his feet and pushed the door in—nd suddenly, leaping, shut the door.
Sat back down. Took deep breaths. Again some more—but did the fast paced beating of the heart go away? No—it persisted. Not much can quell such a beating, but luckily for him, fate was about to willingly force a solution upon him, one which he would readily accept. He glared up at the blank, black sky—no stars, not a moon, only the deep dark abyssal trench that lay across his eyes—and he wondered what his next move should be.
Suddenly, the door creaked, opened, and out of it came out she—had she seen him peering in? This did not matter for she failed to notice his sight immediately. But when she did notice, she smiled.
(Imagine! He had not spoken to her for _____! He had chosen to ignore her for his own sake of pride, control, and self-interest—but here she was, smiling at him!)
Then she spoke, saying the words that he himself had wanted to say for _____: Let’s just end this. He acquiesced. She sat down by him on the bench, the bench that was made for two, not just one—and they both looked up, and suddenly the stars appeared from hiding to welcome the boy and the girl. “Over there!” said she. It was a shooting star, one that they had only heard of in fairy tales—and right when he looked up, he felt her lips on his cheek. He had become malleable, ameliorated by her—and somehow, everything would work out now.