Last of Days

It was the last day of summer. She was waiting for him along the forest path where trees were alined.

As the wind blew she heard footsteps and heavy breathing. Slowly, she turned around. There he stood, sweaty, an image of perfection in her eyes. But there was a sense of heavy awkwardness between the two of them already. Somewhere between the perfectly drawn lines, there was a slight curve.

He greeted her with his warm embrace. It was for a brief second, then they let go.

After exchanging weird glances at each other, she blurted, "I can't go on like this anymore!"

He stared at her, allowing the sentence to sink in. The stare was hard and cold, and even her own breath felt cold to her.

"What are you saying?" he ventured.

"Both of us can't go on like this anymore. I'm sorry." The sadness in her tone surprised her. She didn't know letting him go was going to be so painful.

Deep in her heart she knew he understood, but as most guys did, he defended himself. "You're not much of a fighter," he retorted.

"Maybe that's because you can't even fight yourself," she said.

Both of them eyed each other coldly. Around them, the breeze swayed, with gusts of wind blowing at them occasionally.

Then he turned, his face towards the sunset, his back towards her. That image of perfection was gone.

She felt a tear roll down her cheek. All around her, leaves started falling, rushing to meet the air.