Saturday, January 5, 2019

Futile the Winds

“When I heard you say my name … when I saw you, Catherine, I thought I was hallucinating. I had given up. I had chosen to die rather than to live …” he nearly said ‘without you,’ but arrested his words before that slipped out, “… like that.”

He looked down, unable to meet her eyes, despite the fact that his own longed to see her, to memorize her face more, while he yet could.

“Catherine, words cannot express my gratitude … that you stayed … that you rescued me. But surely you must leave soon for your new job. You need not stay any longer on my account … Your future is waiting for you, Catherine …”

“You are correct, Vincent. I must go … to Providence.” She smiled her knowing smile and promptly continued, “We both must.”

He looked at her uncomprehendingly.

"Providence is when something is meant to be.” She reached out and touched him. “We don’t have any choice. We didn’t come this far to turn back now. Inside these tunnels … beneath this city … is a world of possibilities and wonders and things calling out to us. Things we could only dream about until we came into each others’ lives, Vincent. Don’t you understand? I must stay. We must see and do everything we were meant to."

Hoist by his own words, he could now only ask rhetorically, “Is there no other way?”

“Not for us."

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