The Four Tales

by Aleksi Eeben

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about

I knew of nothing. Of no skies nor lands. No birds nor people. But myself in all eternity and only herself in kingdoms lonely, my heart lost to dreams and wantings ever-lasting.

My porch was covered in the dust of forgetting. Memories piled up thin, waiting for the wind to carry. I rubbed my finger along the cracked wooden railing, brushing up a layer of those memories on its tip. So delicate, then washed away by a wet drop of sorrow.

And quite suddenly, like the morning Sun, she was there again. White scarf around her head, flapping in the breeze. The simple cream dress she wore so often, effortlessly showing her fimininity, without ceremony. Sly wrinkles wisening her eyes. A hastily packed leather suitcase eager to let go its contents. She smiled.

"I'm sorry James. I was wrong. To leave."

Dust unsettled itself as I ran to her.

credits

released January 1, 2007

Short story by Kristoffer Lawson
Cover photo by Mimppu

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about

Aleksi Eeben Finland

Composer, sound designer, vegan, Mensan, Tetris player. Jazz, burlesque, mocktails, cashews, chili

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