Creative Writing

2014/05/18 Chloé Sole
Gr 12x Mrs Nel
Creative Writing
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12. Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me, taking me back down the vista of years.
D. H. Lawrence

There it is again!
Do you hear it?
I hear it.
Always.
Sad. So sad.
The tune lingers with me leaving me haunted and searching until it returns.
This beautifully sad song.
Reminding me of my pain. But the beauty. Oh! The beauty, my friend!
Don’t you hear it?
Seemingly happy the tune cries and dips in and out of my heart. Bathing in my memories.
I see her too sometimes. She comes and sits with me.
Tall. Dressed in white material that floats like mist with no defining lines.
Her long blonde hair sometimes moves in the wind.
Sometimes I feel like her hair touches me. Cold.
There she is! Do you see her?
Those mournful eyes.
I see her.
She sees me.
She brings my gifts from my past.
Here she comes. She will sit with me and sing her song.
She sits down and begins to sing. The lilting song breaks my heart each time.
Note after note. Dissonance after consonance.
And then silence.


Impenetrable silence.


My tears fall.
So beautifully sad.
My life.
So so sad.

Note after note. She sings. Carrying me with her. I can’t not follow for she is me and I am her.
She sings for me and I cry for her.

The song ends.
I know she will leave now.
She stands and starts to walk.

Don’t go!
Come back!
Please.
Please.
Please.

Gone.

Lost.

Silence.

Pain.



Waiting.
Waiting for her.

The table is bear. You sit with me. Watching me. Your eyes are filled with concern. You don’t see her.
You don’t hear her.
You tap nervously on the table.
No beauty in your tapping. Just tapping.
Harsh sound.
Stop it!
Please, my friend.





Please stop.

Let’s wait for her in silence.
Perhaps you’ll see her this time.
Perhaps you will hear her song and perhaps you will cry with me.











I watch you. You asked me to join you this afternoon to see this girl you keep talking about. To hear
her song.
“There it is!” you say looking wildly around.
I don’t hear anything
Desperation in your eyes searching for the source of a sound that I cannot hear. Tears begin to build
up in your eyes. Clutching your heart.
You speak to me but you are mumbling so fast. I catch moments. “Sad, so beautifully sad”
Your face speaks of this sadness that you hear more than your actual words.
You describe her to me.
Tall. Dressed in white material that floats like mist with no defining lines.
Her long blonde hair sometimes moves in the wind.

You speak as though you know her well and though she knows you.

“There she is!”
I look. Searching for this ethereal being you speak of.
I don’t see anything.
Weeping as you go you begin to speak to HER.
Always reminding me of the melody she sings. Your muscles hold you up poised. Waiting. Waiting for
what I don’t know.
“Silence”
You are so drawn into whatever you are hearing or seeing I believe you have forgotten my presence.
And then you pause almost as if you were frozen.
“I am her and she is me”
I don’t quite know what to do for you fall upon the floor crying asking HER to come back, to not
leave.

You remain in a bundle on the floor. I had not expected this. I don’t know what I had expected but I
certainly did not anticipate to see my friend in a heap on the floor looking completely dejected and
abandoned by some girl that sings a song I cannot hear.
Is this song really that sad?
Perhaps I can hear it I just don’t hear it the same way as my friend.
[655 Words]