Together We Cry

 A calling came from the land above. Drawing them out of the pool. The water seemed to cling to their skin, creating a casing, and armor of delicate glass. They begin their great walk, which they were meant to take, or perhaps not. For they ran into a sage. She was disheveled with mussed black hair and wild brown eyes. She sat cross legged on the fork between roads. "Lad," she calls. Lad, as they have been called turned and stared at the woman with wide watery eyes. "You're crackin'" Lad looked down and found that they were indeed cracking. Fine lines like spiders web spanned all along their legs, all the way to their waist. There was nothing that could be done, the sage didn't seem interested in helping them so they ignored her and began to walk anew. Choosing a road at random they were accompanied only by the sound of their glass feet thudding along the path. Thud, thud, thud. After many days of this they finally stopped to sit upon a rock. Once they had sat they observed a small chip. A missing piece, right at their heel. Well, that was the end of walking they supposed.

So they decided to sit on that very rock for millennia to pass. After all there wasn't much left to do. They sat and sat, and watched as the sun rose and fell. Slowly, they became a lovely adorned statue of luck. It started with minor trinkets like earrings and ribbons. Then it became strands of pearls and gold. This statue was a feast for the eyes, all colored glass and finery. Villagers began to pray for their safety and their luck and though the statue did nothing in particular this brought them comfort.

One day a little boy came to pray before the statue. He had nothing but a chrysanthemum in hand. It was a delicate thing that could be knocked away by a slight gust of wind but he put it in the statue’s open hand nonetheless. He sat before it and prayed that the girl he liked would reciprocate his feelings. The statue could still do nothing but for once in its lonely existence, wished that it could. They wished they could grant the boy his wish. Even after the boy’s crush rejected him he still came to the statue every once in a while. Sometimes to pray, and sometimes to simply stare. As he stared at the statue, wanting desperately to commit its image to paper, the statue smiled. It was a reserved little expression, and it was just for him. His heart pounded in his chest and in that moment he found something new to love.

He came and worshiped in this way for many years until he was an older boy, almost a man. He had the softness of youth but the hoarse call of an adult. This lovely creature of the in between came and dragged the statue home with him. The symbol of luck ought to have no cracks, or so the boy said. His home was humble and warm though the statue could feel very little. The roaring of that hearth told them all they needed to know. There was no woman, perhaps he was alone? The girl he had set his sights on when he was just a boy had rejected him. Had he never found a new love? The statue pondered quietly as the boy set out a collection of tools. Before the statue could think further he began to disentangle it from all its robes and pearls.

Once all the robes were off the little cracks all filled with dust were revealed. Slowly the boy labored, filling all the little cracks with moats of gold. It was a beautiful sight. The sweat beading on his brow as his fine boned hands guided the molten gold along its path. He worked well into the night and when he was finally done he whistled with satisfaction. Now, instead of cracks there were weds and lines of pure gold all along the statues legs. It felt good to have all the cracks filled in, even the little chip on their heel had been lovingly filled. The boy clothed the statue anew and went to bed.

When he rose the next morning he found the statue perched by his door, as if it had been waiting all night long. He crossed the room to stand before the statue. Wordlessly it walked out his front door, expecting him to follow, and he did. He followed it all the way to a meadow. Full of those lovely flowers he used to pick for the statue when he was small. All swinging languidly in the wind. The statue stopped in the middle of the meadow, watching the boy placidly. He stood before the statue once more and looked into its eyes. It leaned down and placed a kiss at his temple. The boy’s traiterous heart stuttered.

The statue watches the boy as he collects flower after flower from the meadow. Carefully braiding them into a crown, then placing it on the statues head. The statue quirked a brow but said nothing. The boy took a deep bow before speaking in a shaky voice. “I have always loved you.” The declaration seemed to take his breath away. He said nothing more but kept his head bowed. Finally, the statue spoke. “I cannot give you the love you seek, as I am made of glass, no matter what I want.” The statue wished for nothing more than to grant his boy’s wish, yet they couldn’t, some god they were. “I still want to try,” the boy exclaimed. So that’s what they did. They tried their best to kiss. The boy of flesh and the statue of glass. All cold sharp mineral and blood. The boy was the first to cry. Tears welling in his eyes as he licked his bloodied lips.

The statue cried too. They didn’t even know they could cry, till glistening crystal droplets fell from its eyes. They cried together, letting the song of their sobs fill the meadow, which was suddenly a tragic place. That’s when the idea hits the statue. A place where they could truly be together forever. They grabbed the boy’s hand and ran. They ran as if fleeing pitch forks. They ran for their love, until they reached the clearing with the pond. The boy stared at the crystalline pond. “This is where you came form?”, he asked. The statue nodded. The boy knew what they wanted to do. So without any argument he took the statue’s hand and walked into the pond. Where they feel into an endless slumber, together.