Auroras

She stared at the wide, grey beach. It wasn’t a ordinary beach, like those we pull into our minds when someone says the word ‘beach’; the sunny, warm, burning place filled with happiness and smiley people.

No.

The beach which she was staring at wasn’t the stereotyped one at all. It was a sad, frozen beach. With snow falling all over the rocks and some seagulls singing sad old songs. It had no living human, just her and the hairy, shining creature. Maybe ghosts: regards that were as miseralbe as her, but no humans at all. And that was such a relief to her.

The beach was neither empty, nor happy, though.

It wasn’t empty because she was staring at the only thing which she could ever love, at least now. And it wasn’t happy too because, of course, that fact was pretty sad, full with disappointment. A tired, depressive disappointment.

And everyone knows that nothing full of disappointment can be happy.

It was white. So white that was about to burn her eyes, when she blinked and looked away at the unconcerned waves that were making the uninterrupted moviments, without even notice her presence. And, for the first time in months (maybe years), after realize how much nothing really cared about her in that place, she felt herself a little happier.

She could even smile softly now.

She stoped staring at the beach and started staring at the white thing just a few meters away from her. It was beautiful, She had dreamed with that her entire life, and now she could finally own it.

But no, nothing can be such a perfection. Something was missing. Of course she knew it, since the very first moment, when she thought about moving to that place, she already knew it.

The thin, tall and smiley silhouette was missing. The only thing that she could love more than the polar auroras. And It would keep itself missed forever now, and that was a closed and irreversible fact. She didn’t even know if she had ever owned such silhouette ; she was already wondering if it had been really real, or if it wasn’t nothing but a dream. A stupid, patheticfantasy.

She looked at the pink, hairy little thing holding her hand and felt a stitch pain reaching her heart. That being, part of her, could be a hallucination as well. Who knows? She always had the impression of madness in everything around her anyway.

She nodded, trying to push all those thoughts away. She held the little hand even harder and ran across the beach, so in a minute, her and the smiley creature were inside the wide, white house, The last one laughing so hard that, for a moment, a tiny, little second (maybe not even this) the foggy beach became her old home. A comforting fireplace protecting her from the evil winter.

But that moment soon faded. She was staring at the white’s house solar again and, again, she realized that the thin silhouette wasn’t there , and would never be. But then she realized that the auroras would never stop happening. She would have the opportunity of seeing them every wonderful night, with the little creature, that was, now, sleeping deeply in her arms.

And, oh yes. That night she saw the green and purple aurora above her head in that frozen beach of the North Atlantic. Far away, in the iron sea, some killer whales were singing along for the moon.

She didn’t wake the hairy being up, so he could keep dreaming, thing that she could not do anymore.