Constellations

May 28, 2008
By
Two teenagers - a boy and a girl - stand alone on the hill, the wind forming ripples in the soft fabric of her dress. For her, their silence is comforting; a necessary break from the gossip of their peers. The chirping of crickets in the background is strangely relaxing to her, like the sound of running water is to some people. He’s studying the stars while chewing his lip in thought; a small smile on his face. She’s memorizing his facial features, trying to find small details that she might have overlooked earlier this week.

She breathes in the humid air, fresh from the rain this morning. “What’re you thinking?” she asks quietly, tucking her hair behind her ears.

He hesitates a moment before replying, “I was comparing love to constellations.” He taps his fingers against his legs nervously, waiting for her to laugh at him like other people would.

She doesn’t. Instead, she considers the idea and tries to understand his view. “Well, that makes sense,” she says slowly. “Both are hard to find.”

“Yeah,” he nods, relieved at her response. “You could search in the wrong place, too.”

“And,” she continues, getting into the idea, “Sometimes, they have to be pointed out for you, but some people are luckier than others.”

He frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

“I forgot,” she says apologetically. “You don’t believe in luck, do you?” He shakes his head, and she continues. “But some people stumble upon them without even looking for them. Hell, some people don’t even want to find them, but they do. Others search forever and don’t.”

He thinks about it for a minute before replying, “We got lucky, then, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Yeah, we did.”





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