'What are you looking at?'
'The hares. There are five of them now, and they're running in a circle, each one following another's tail.'
'Where?' he asks, moving closer to where I'm standing, in front of the window.
I sigh and point out to the garden. He squints into the twilight.
'You always notice the most peculiar things. It's like you have your very own way of seeing the world,' he says, 'I love that about you.'
But you don't, I think but don't say. I feel his eyes on me now, but I keep mine on the circle in the grass. You don't see the world like me at all. You're colour blind. You need me to make it interesting for you. Surely that can't be fair.
She was different. She saw the world differently. Not the same way as I do, exactly, but full of colour too. She heard music where others only thought there was noise. She danced on bare feet. She talked to animals and petted flowers.
I'm wearing a flower crown today. From the corner of my eye I can see your hand reaching out towards it. 'Don't,' I say, pushing your hand away. I could never allow you to touch her delicate creations. I don't need to look at your face to know you're pouting.
The hares have disappeared, along with the last red glow of the setting sun. I slowly close the curtains.
Another night without her. Soon I'll have to throw the wilted flowers away. But I have a feeling the hares will be back again tomorrow evening, and perhaps the one after that too. You can kill the lover but not the love.
We keep the light off while we get into bed. You kiss me Goodnight on the top of my head. In the dark, you can't tell the difference between tears or a smile. It's all the same to you, all the same.
