The last sunset

Victoria had never truly appreciated the bright flurries of colour that stretched over the sky before it faded into darkness. It was only now that she gave sunsets a second thought, while laying on her deathbed in a room that smelt faintly of lavender salts, with tattered pictures hung up on the unadorned walls, which peeled with old, evanescent paint. 

The windows that surrounded her room were opened all the way, and the oddly-comforting, warm-toned sky was the only friend she had left. The windows gave her insight into the world outside, however, she had never paid it any attention, for she already knew the depths of the cities and alleyways of London that she had wandered into during her youth. Her life had always been busy. Fast-paced. She’d never had any time to stop and smell the proverbial roses, nor had she ever wanted to. Never thought it to be necessary. In fact, when she was younger, she’d thought taking time to herself was a sign of weakness. But right now, now that she had no option but to slow down everything and look outside, it was the sky she’d always overlooked that astonished her, and its ever-changing complexion that constantly shifted from the break of dawn to the late hours. 

The day had passed by in a blur, and for once, Victoria noticed it. It didn’t seem to drag, and she wasn’t dealing with a million sources of stress at once. She’d simply… existed. She had read the new books that her daughter had dropped off at her door and found them delightful. The books, old fairy tales she hadn’t picked up since she was a little girl, all ended with the knights in shining armour riding off into the sunset. Victoria had always thought sunsets to be solely a backdrop for something more interesting, like a knight, or a swordfight, or even a dance, however, it was now that she wondered if she could have been wrong. Maybe sunsets could be beautiful on their own. Maybe their simplicity was what made them so mesmerizing to others, even if it had taken her decades to even attempt understanding others’ seemingly strange fascination with them, and nature in general. 

This evening’s sunset had spread out across the sky just as she finished reading the last book her daughter had given her, and she lay down from her sitting position to admire the sky. Her body was splayed in a position meant for relaxation. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d relaxed. She could only recall countless sleepless nights that climaxed at her falling asleep at her desk, fingers wrapped around a pen and papers laid out in front of her. Sighing contentedly, she stared at the iridescent colors flitting across the sky. There was a single cloud floating amongst the vermillion and carmine hues, and if she squinted, it almost resembled a pale flame bursting out of a stunning inferno. This was the first time that she had given the sunset any direct attention, unlike the sunrise in which she usually woke up early to watch. 

The sky was now coloured with brilliant and vibrant oranges and reds tinting the clouds. The longer she focused on the radiant shades, the more they seemed to flourish and blossom. The sun hid beneath the mass of clouds, but its light still shone onto the city, giving the buildings an amber hue. Victoria had seen the sunset every day for all of her ninety-one years alive and had never felt such attraction to it. It was as if she was caught in a trance, her eyes glued to the sight and her body frozen. She was drawn to it because it was beautiful. Simple. Relaxed. Exactly what she needed. 

The sunset left promptly, replaced with a blanket of darkness. She felt disappointment at its quick departure and the arrival of the night but also disappointment in herself. How could she be so foolish to cast a blind eye towards such a view?

That night, her awe only grew. She pulled out her watercolour papers and grabbed her paints from a wooden cabinet and began working. She made a light sketch, her gnarled hands shaking as she began to paint, the colors hardly as vibrant as the sky’s but just enough to capture the essence of a sunset. The last time she’d painted was when she was in grade school, and even that was only technical studies. Never something that, while superficial to some, carried such emotion and vulnerability. She painted all through the night, with the company of a desk lamp and her imagination. 

The next day when she awoke, her head resting on her desk where she drew, Victoria decided she’d had enough of being trapped in a room that kept her alive, but forbade her from living. Her bones were frail and her lungs were weak but she wondered what the point of living was if she experienced no excitement or joy, only boredom. She pulled on a warm sweater that she knitted herself and slipped on patterned loafers then headed out into the heart of the city. 

The walk to London was a lot harder than Victoria had originally anticipated, her knees ached and her back grew tired. But when the cool autumn breeze caressed her face and the sound of cardinals rang in her ears, she brushed away the pain and continued on. Such peace was something she knew she could never find if she were isolated in a room, lying on her deathbed. 

The city was not what she’d imagined, it had grown more sophisticated, and yet she still felt nostalgia creep into her mind. She remembered her youth, when she and her friends ran through the city, visiting all the shops and taking pictures of all the famous monuments. A smile touched her lips as she closed her eyes to breathe in the fresh air and bask in the sun. Victoria spent her day in the city, touring all her favorite shops, imagining herself to be young and free again. The day was almost turning tonight but she still had one more thing she wanted to do before she left. 

She sat on one of the benches in Victoria Park, and laced her hands together, waiting for the sunset to come. And when it finally did, she tilted her head back on the bench and watched as the colours entered the sky and wove together into a beautiful tapestry. 

She went home that night, back to the outskirts of London, a peaceful melody singing in her heart. 

And when it was time for her to pass, that same melody echoed through her mind, guiding her and protecting her. Enveloping her as she was carried to whatever came next, it reverberated through her very soul and freeing her of her burdens and finally allowing her a taste of euphoric ataraxia.