She leaned against me; her fine hair caught briefly but she tugged it free with a sharp twist of her head. I could feel the weariness in her body as she slumped down to the ground. Something else, too. Suddenly, she seized a pine cone out of the dirt and hurled it away. It disappeared into the grass, making no sound where it fell and she stared after it. I wished for her that it had shattered, exploded, left some crater in the earth because that is what she wanted. There was a breaking in her and silence was not helping. I heard it then, a terrible, shuddering sigh and she wept. I whistled softly, standing over her. It wasn’t music exactly, I didn’t know any songs, but the formless sound played out in the night and softened the tearing of her sobs.
“This is perfect,” she snuffled wetly. Her fingers idly tore at the grass. “This is so perfectly cliché I could scream.”
She didn’t say what was perfect, or perfectly imperfect, or what was so frustrating about this night. I waited. She reached up over her head and placed a hand against me. A caress of sorts. It was very still. The wind had fallen off when she stopped crying and I stood silently now. I wanted her to speak! There was so much about her that was hovering on an edge and she was going to fall, I could feel it. She patted me gently and dropped her hand into her lap.
“You know, this wasn’t my plan at all.” She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling the strands together, twisting them into a knot on top of her head. She made a small sound. A laugh, maybe?
“Not that I had a plan, but I’m telling you, this would not have been it.”
Hesitantly she placed a hand on her stomach. “Hello?” She bowed her head; the makeshift bun was pulling free already and a few strands fell forward. “I know you probably can’t hear me, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to do this.” Unconsciously she stroked her abdomen, imagining that she felt something, someone. There was something alive in there, right? Her voice was dreamy now, still rough from crying and she sounded stuffy but she was soft. “If I was someone else, maybe you would be amazing one day.” Her throat caught and sat silently for a moment but I felt her shoulders heaving against me. “I want you to know, that I wish-.” The words were drowned in a terrible, rattling breath. She pressed her head back against me, her face distorted. Her breath came in great gasps and her entire body shook at the effort.
Suddenly she sniffed and sat upright. “God, what am I doing?” Her voice was strange and matter of fact. She straightened her hair briskly and wiped her eyes. I heard rustling, she was rummaging in her purse for something, a paper bag. Inside was a box and some sort of capsule that rattled. She stared at it for a moment and stuffed the whole thing back into her bag. I felt it in her that she was leaving. She was drawing herself up and pulling on whatever terrible strength she had, that she’d always had. I had only a few moments now. I started to whistle again, very gently. I swayed in the wind and I heard her breath come a little easier. Slowly, so very slowly, one hand against me and the other on her gut, she stood. Stooping for her bag, I heard her breath catch again but she cleared her throat and snuffled fiercely. I knew her, she would stop crying now and she would do whatever the very difficult thing was with her strength pulled around her like ribbons in the wind.
Gosh Darn Sunlight 