Mother's Day

She grimaced for a second, and he pretended not to notice. It was easier that way, simpler. If you pretended not to notice, then you didn't have to bring it up. If you didn't have to bring it up, then you didn't have to have a long and awkward stammering discussion about it. It was easier that way, simpler.

It was a cold, grey day. And for a moment, he closed his eyes, taking it in. If he forced himself to, he almost believed for a second being in a different time and place. And not at this precipice moment alongside her. She was silent, and for that he was thankful. Had been silent the entire journey, as though the weight of the things that had to be said were a collar around both her neck...and his.

How long they stood there, together and apart looking out he could not say. Finally she reached over to him. She took his hand in both of hers, seeking...holding. He felt her squeeze softly, it was a question there, unspoken. He could not muster the response. His hands were neither clammy nor dry, as though they were not his hands at all entirely, but the hands of another man in his place. He wanted to open his eyes, he knew she wanted reassurance, but he had none to give. She gave up after a breath, her hand slipped from his, and the sound of rock beneath her boots announced her retreat.

Still he felt nothing. His heart was heavy, laden with unspoken thoughts. His mind was still sifting and sorting through all the possibilities, each one more indistinct than the last. Finally he opened his eyes, having searched and come up with nothing. And he discovered his cheeks were wet with tears. When they had happened, there was no memory of it. But still the dampness crept down his face, unbidden, but for once, not shameful.

A crack of thunder made him finally look up, a long way off a storm brewed. It seemed a fitting thing. Finally he knelt, and lay the small bundle of wildflowers atop the shrine. They were fresh, hand picked that morning. She returned to him, sword and belt in hand, it was time, and there was no more for it. He took it and bade her go with a hand gesture, seeking one final moment of silence before the coming night.

"Goodbye," and then, "Happy Mother's day."

And then he strode away into the dusk, leaving behind only a memory of tears.