Truth, Easily.

*Image credit; Leighann Blackwood @ Unsplash*

The smell of burning paper is what draws me to the balcony. The smoke filters upward as flames eat the leaves. After all, tree pulp and trees are the easiest fuel to a fire. I pick a paper swishing across the floor in an attempt to escape.

When the flames die down, I have a scrap of typewritten words. I scan my eyes through it. ”That is a nice thought on love.” I stare at the words written in red ink at some of the typing mistakes.

”Love is patient…love is kind.” The smoke makes my eyes sting, I cough. In the darkness he sits there as the flames throw light and shadow across his features. As usual his face gives nothing away, he merely adds another heap to the fire as he stokes it with the poker in his hand. Loose typewritten sheets fly as the wind whips through the glittering night sky. All the words are black ink interspersed with red.

”Love is none of that.” He answers. He looks at me, dark eyes shimmering like pools in a forest. “You could call it…idealism. The ideal glided image of what love might look like.”

”Love is impatient. Love is unkind. Love can force our worst selves out…and when the masks fall off…love can be awful.”

I listen intently breathing in the smoke. The edges of the paper leave soot across my fingers as I pick at it. “I didn’t think…you’d become so jaded.” I fold my arms and stare at the night sky. The wind now whispers through the trees in the backyard. Somewhere down the alley, a dog howls. The pack answers elsewhere.

”You wrote down all the things that you are and made it about love. Rude, proud and self-seeking. Patient, kind…angry.” I read the words again. “Past mistakes…” I sigh.

”It almost reads like a prayer for forgiveness for everything that makes you…this.” I comment. He gazes at me. The fire has died down into embers and ash. “But I don’t understand…why are these two words in red ink? Easily. Truth. If you wanted to make an impact you could have chose any other words.”

A smirk as his eyes gleam in the shadow. He runs a hand through the cooled ash, ruffling it through his fingers like sand. They come away coated in soot, grey and ivory.

“I didn’t write those words. I borrowed them from the Bible.” He says plainly. I cock my head. Aha. “I suppose…I was looking for love and I saw myself in that verse…and I kept it. To be myself though, I had to misdirect, hence those red words. Has your curiousity ended?”

”Yes.” I fold the charred paper and tuck it into my pocket.

He flashes me an amused smile but he says nothing and we sit on the balcony as the breezes sigh making the trees whisper and the stars glimmer in the heavens.

Written for Sadje’s WDYS#177.

Frankly, I have no idea where I was going with this piece, but it ended up having a mystical subtext so I am leaving it here for your reading pleasure. I googled the quote to find out more about it and that’s how I found out it is a Bible verse.

Thanks for reading 💕