Anthesis of Sadness

The last day of that month, as the horizon opened once again onto the crystal — immense, distant, bathed in that pale light that always seemed to float around it like an ancient memory — Lysara turned to me.

Her gaze was calm. But not empty.

— When we get there... everything will change, won’t it?

I took a moment before answering. Just a nod, slow, almost imperceptible.

— Yes. The world will resume its rhythm. Its pain. Its demands.

She said nothing at first.

Her eyes were fixed on the horizon, but I felt she wasn’t only looking ahead. She was looking at what we were leaving behind.

Then, in a barely audible breath:

— Then let’s walk slowly.

And that’s what we did.

We walked. More slowly than ever before.