Brain Fart

Red shards of light outlined our silhouettes as they mingled carelessly in the long summer grass. The lake below shimmered with pristine shades of blue and silver, challenging the glory of the setting sun that lay behind it. Hills and forests encircled the scene in an infinite arc that perfectly intertwined with the pastel colors of the unpolluted atmosphere.
“I don’t want to go back,” I murmured into Will’s ear, as his hand touched my arm with the soft tone of familiarity. “I don’t ever want to go back.”
The knoll we were perched upon fell into shadow as the sun succumbed to the comforts of the other side of the globe. The barely existent light caught the intensity that shone from his sparkling blue eyes as they turned to meet my own. “I’m not going to let you abandon everything you’ve worked so tirelessly for.”
As I clung to his broad shoulders I replayed the devastating events of the past few weeks, desperately trying to find a way to salvage my career, my reputation and my family. I had become a national spectacle, a household name unknown only to the deaf landscape that surrounded me. “But I can’t fix this Will!” I cried in exasperation as I enviously gazed at the dancing stars above.
“You don’t need to fix this; you simply need to survive it.”
Although his words resonated with truth I couldn’t accept them. My weakened heart had been stripped of any remnants of confidence and hope.
We lay silently in the pale reflected starlight that emanated from the calm lake, unable to venture towards the small cabin we had never reached. My head had begun to fall towards Will’s shoulder when the power of electricity suddenly glared from behind. Will jumped and turned to face the oncoming headlights as I gained my footing in the loose soil. The vehicle inched its way down the driveway of boulders and rock, eventually halting about fifteen feet from our confused and rigid figures. A woman emerged and jogged towards us, all the while shouting “Mom! Dad!”
It was our daughter Katie, the sole confidante we had revealed our choice of sanctuary to. “What is it?” Will inquired as we both studied the angst that revealed itself in the taught lines of her face.
“He’s dead,” she whispered only slightly louder then the passing breeze.