Flashing Lights

We sat there on my balcony, peering at the horizon.

I was lost, my thoughts raced.

“How did we get here?”

“I don’t know.”

Maybe it was just coincidence.  Or maybe fate.  But we had crossed paths again.  After going our separate ways, we had found each other again.  Or I found her.

As the sun slipped away, leaving the clouds and dimming sky, I pondered what might have been.  What should have been.  And inevitably, what would be.

We sat in wait.

I let her slip away once.  I thought I was doing right by her.  If I had let her go, that she would come back to me.  She never did.

She wanted to see the world.  She wanted world.  She was, in fact, a master thief, one that was wanted internationally.  She knew what she desired, and wasn’t afraid to take it.  She stole millions.  In diamonds and jewels, in art, in currency.  But before all of this, she stole my love, and never gave it back.

Here I was now, with the same decision I had to confront years ago.  Back before we went in completely opposite directions.  I turned to her, and faced her.  She grabbed my hands.  Her warm caress clashed with the cold steel of the handcuffs.  Her eyes lied with ease, comforting and painful at the same time.  I was torn but the scars from the past did not heal completely.

The sirens in the background were growing louder.

I looked back at her and felt a rush of emotions.  Perhaps I would regret my next choice, but I knew I would regret doing otherwise.

I pulled my hand from hers and pulled from the pocket over my heart a single key.  The key to my heart but to her freedom.  It was hers to do what she willed.  I placed it in her hands, kissed her forehead and turned back around, spotting the flashing lights in the distance.

Closing my eyes, I heard her briefly fiddling with the key and the cuffs.  Her footsteps slowly faded into the background, and the door creaked open.  Then for a split second, it was silent.  Slowly, the door shut.

The cold breeze forced my hands into my trouser pockets. I breathed in deeply, my lungs filling with the cool night air.  The quiet quickly passed as my ears focused in on the noise of the sirens.

As my anxiety grew, I felt a tug on my arm sleeve, pulling my hand out of my pocket.  I spun around.  There she stood, hands still bound.  She pulled my hand up, and placed the key slowly in my open palm.

She sat back down beside me, and as we waited, she spoke in a whisper.

“How did we get here?”

“I don’t know.”


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