Sunday, May 22, 2011

Dance of the spirits...

As she cupped the hot thermos, she couldn't help but notice how cold her fingers were. The fleece lined gloves were of no use here - Svalbard, inside of the Arctic circle. He handed her the mug, the coffee they had brought was the only thing which could warm her...well almost only anyway.

This was their fourth night out in the middle of nowhere. Every polar night, they trudged out, with their guide in tow, to catch the one thing that had brought them out here. It was something they did on whim, each knowing that there wasn't any hope for them. But a handful of memories is all that is required to live.And they were collecting as many as could fit, in cold, stiff hands....

Conversations were easy, as they are when you know you have nothing more to loose. No expectations, no fear of the future, just one desperate clawing in the darkness to catch all that's worthwhile. Eyes to the infinity,they finished their coffees. The guide had been checking with the observatory for forecasts and they appeared to have chosen the wrong day yet again! Cursing under his breath,the guide started roping in the sled dogs in a distance.

She was tired, and so was he.
From the waiting. From the running. From the running away from each other.
Yet there was something so real,that could not be denied.
He lied down on his back, his thick blue parka shielding from the cold. She lied down next to him, always maintaining the gap they had both respected. Her fingers, still cold, felt as if they were on fire. Eyes on the sky, they both lay, hearing the silence they loved as much as each other. She rubbed her hands, then gave up.

The silence grew and then - nothing.
His hand had found hers, the gloves lay down on snow. Their fingers entwined...and suddenly the spirits started dancing. They had waited too long, just like she and him.

They watched, eyes never leaving the sky. The moment was theirs, the spirits had danced.

Bare hands had never felt so warm.
Beyond this, was nothing, just as before they had met.
But this was somehow enough, to spend a life. Away.
The frostbite, their trophy. The spirits, their witness.

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