Lovers Lost to Time
We were the last, the free, two lovers emerged from night into a brand new day.
I shielded Kara’s eyes, her arms too weak to lift unaided, and led her out of the caves into what remained. Gone were the cities, the dying and the dead, everything and anything replaced by orange-tinged rock and loose sands.
“So barren,” she whispered.
My own mouth was too dry to answer. Instead, I just nodded.
“Is this it?” she asked, imploring eyes staring from her gaunt face.
“Yes,” I managed. “Yes, it is.”
“Do you think we’re alone?”
“Yes,” I replied and hung my head.
For months we’d cowered in the darkness waiting for the bombs to stop and the world to realign. I’d had one hope, just one: to see the sun again. Now we did, the great celestial ball of fire peeking over the horizon like a glinting diamond, all I wanted was to return to the night.
If I’d taken it badly, Kara had taken it worse. She stood in a daze like a rabbit caught in the headlights of life itself. She twitched, cocked her head in spasms unable to digest what had happened. When she spoke every syllable echoed her fears.
“Are we lovers lost in time, John? Are we?”
I looked to the sky free of clouds at last, back to the blazing sun and said, “Not in time. To time. We are beyond all that was, is and will be, my love. We are everything and nothing, but I could never love you more.”
Kara smiled at that, and at last I remembered why we’d hidden and why no matter how long we’d have together it was a decision I’d never regret.
When we kissed I forgot whether it was night or day. I wished I didn’t have to open my eyes ever again. But I did.