Night Sky

She leaned on the railing of the balcony. A gentle yet cold breeze blew by, and she did her best to conceal her shiver. The elegant red dress she had chosen for the party did not cover her arms, or offer any sort of shawl.

The cold vaguely reminded her of the ballroom she had left behind her. A quick glance behind her revealed the glass door engraved in intricate and overly-fancy designs. She smirked to herself when she thought about how much the house-owner had spent on the simple details of the balcony doors.

She saw the movement behind the doors. Pompous laughter and fake flirtatious giggles were muffled, but still heard through the doors. To herself, she rolled her eyes in a snobbish manner. Prissy sons a'...

A cigarette sat almost menacingly between her thumb and forefinger. She rolled it in her fingers for a moment, debating whether or not she should take a smoke. She turned back to the view from the balcony.

The starry black sky seemed intimidating, she noted. It was vast, far, but vast. Larger than her mind could stretch. Larger than any forest, larger than any mansion a stuck-up rich man could buy. The idea had always interested her.

She would have loved to go to space. To leave the dry life she had on her shoulders. To escape the confusion and anxiety of her complex situation. Such hardcore thoughts plagued her mind, keeping her awake and worried. She wanted more than the dull life that the powers above had chosen for her, she wanted more than a cigarette in her hand and bags under her eyes.

She pulled the small roll of lung cancer up to her mouth and inhaled. Carefully and slowly, as though she were a tired old woman who had seen much, she breathed out. A discolored and dry cloud of grey smoke exited her lips. The sight saddened her slightly.

She sighed and dropped the cigarette. Crushing it under her high black heels, she folded her arms on the railing and leaned forward.

Suddenly, arms wrapped around her waist. She leaned into the touch, recognizing the silent gesture.

"You're cold," her lover said. He rested his head in her neck, rubbing his nose on her skin. "Why not go back into the party to warm up?"

She scoffed quietly. "It's colder in there than it is in the obnoxious jackass who owns it's heart."

"Why so upset, love?" asked her lover tenderly.

She stayed silent. Then, in an almost monotone voice, "I wish I could see the stars."

"But you can, my dear," spoke the man, confused.

"From the moon, I mean," she corrected herself, "I imagine it would be the most fantastic sight, the stars, that is."

Her love remained unspeaking. He gently placed his lips on her neck, and she stretched her neck to allow him more access.

"My dear," he began gently, as though addressing a kitten, "The stars cannot solve your problems. That is what life is about, is it not? Taking responsibility and learning lessons are key elements of maturing.

"One bad day is not the beginning of many unless you make it. I believe you have the power to change any fate you think is your only path. A lost flower will struggle against the wind, while a flower that knows it place will hold its ground. You simply are yet to find your patch of grass, my love," the man hugged his lover tighter.

She leaned into her lover. A small and pleasant smile graced her once frowning lips as she responded, "You always know what to say. So wise." She turned and placed her arms on her love's shoulders as his hands gripped her waist. "How about we return to the party? I heard that the important business man who made that speech brought some good wine."

Their foreheads touched. The man breathed out, "Shall we?"

He pulled away from the woman only to bow in front of her, holding out a hand. "My lady,"

The woman graciously accepted the hand and looped her arm through her lover's. "Of course, dear."

And as the woman sipped her wine and watched her lover discuss business with the other attendees that night, her thoughts were not plagued by the idea of a baned existence.