August 2001 / Volume Two / Issue Two
Sara Rovetto
Beauty Lasts But A Moment

  We laid on our backs in the cold, listening to a continuous drip from an unknown source. The dock was damp, but not too damp and the night was upon everything. Everything except for a golden ember which glowed steadily on the horizon. Every now and then it would rise up, glow even brighter and then quickly dim down settling back on the horizon. It just sat there for a while slowly smouldering away into nothingness. Its beauty suddenly and quietly captivated me. Again it was raised up with a firm hand toward soft parted lips. Those lips softly expelled a small stream of smoke into the cold night air. The ember glowing in his hand once again rested above his chest. He laid there in a moment of silence. Then, just as suddenly as it began, it ended. The moment was lost.
Return to August 2001