vignette: waiting

She stood beneath the familiar tree, her hands resting against the scarred trunk, her head bowed, unmoving.

He watched her from where he sat, elbows on the uneven grass, eyebrows raised as if a question was forming in his head.

Above them, the sky, impassive and strikingly blue, stretched out - oblivious and serene, dotted by languid clouds of no particular shape.

"So," she said, at last turning towards the man. "Is that all of it? Is this all of it?"

"Yes," he said, sitting up, rubbing the green stains from the sleeves of his shirt. "Yes, I think so."

She looked at him and held out her hands, taking one step, then two, and three towards him.

He stood up as she neared him, finding a reason to smile amid all the sorrow, all that had happened.

"So what happens now, do you think?" she asked. She felt suddenly empty and light, wanting to float away, wanting to be carried away by the wind.

"We wait," he replied. "We wait and see what happens." He thought about kissing her but knew it wasn't right, wasn't the right time, wasn't the right person.

"All right," she said, trailing a finger down the line of his cheek.