"Three Triangles"

Her long, wavy brown hair curled at her cheeks as each strand danced in a gleeful, melancholic way. Her stark red lips made her wan skin look paler. Her eyes were brown, but they possessed the blue of the sea and the green of the fields and the gold of the sun-- looking into her eyes meant you saw the whole world, as if from a spaceship up in outer space… up in outer space. All the way up there where there is only you and your thoughts and the thousands of stars to watch you dance naked in your mind, to scream as loud as you can, to cry at the vast, empty, meaninglessness of it all-- of life, of loss, of love, she thought. And she closed her eyes and lifted her thin arm and stretched out her hand as if she could one day reach up and touch the moon. 

“To dance among the stars,” she whispered. “To dance among the stars…” And the wind blew away a small tear that had viciously escaped from her eye. She stood at the edge of the cliff-- at the edge between green fields and blue seas. This is where the golden of the sun meets-- at this edge of eternity. And she leapt from the green grasses towards the blue waters and she floated and flew down, racing against time and the crumbling of the rocks that were once beneath her feet. 

But she woke up.

She was no longer in that sliver of eternity. She was no longer at peace, content, alone, young once more. But she was still ready. She looked beside her: a man her same age- sixty. He sat patiently, waiting for her to speak first. 

“You are still young,” said the man in the chair, as if he was in her mind, reading her thoughts. “You are too young.” 

“Why? I am sixty. That is old enough!”

“If I were you and you were me, would you say the same?”

“If you were ready, yes.”

“Don’t lie.” She looked down.

“If you were ready…” she repeated. 

“Please.”

“Please? How could I ever tell you to let go? I couldn’t. I know that! But those weren’t the cards we were dealt. And I am ready. I promise you. Do you know what I dreamt of? Do you want to hear?” she asked excitedly, yet still stubborn to prove her point.

“No, I don’t know. What did you dream of?” He knew what she dreamt about. She dreamt the same thing every night-- that’s why it was harder. But he loved the glimmer of hope in her eyes when she would tell him. He loved how happy she became, even for just a few minutes.

“I dreamt I was twenty-three again! And I was outside, standing. I could feel the cool breeze! I was at a cliff where behind me was a field of green and below, a blue sea. The sun was shining! I could feel it’s warmth! And I closed my eyes and reached towards the sky and universe and I leapt off the edge of the cliff and I flew and floated down as if I was a feather! A feather! Oh, it was wonderful! Truly wonderful… and free.” She closed her eyes again. “I wish I could go there.”

“Where? To a cliff? The sea? A field?”

“Any. I would take any of them.” A tear rolled down her cheek and he bent over her to wipe it away. “I hate this,” she said, sitting up. 

“I hate it, too.”

“It’s too white and bright and sterile.”

“You want it to be dirty?”

“No, colorful… Would it be so hard to paint three triangles? One pink, one teal, one orange. I could do it, even in the state I’m in!” She laid back down and closed her eyes.

“I’ll be back,” he said and swiftly left. She dreamt once more of all she wished she had done. When he returned, she said,

“I never once saw the sea. It’s not even that far and I’ve never once seen it.” 

“I thought you said you were ready.”

“I am! But that doesn’t mean I don’t have regrets. Everyone has regrets.” 

“How many regrets do you have?”

“Just small ones. Just the sea.” She looked at him and noticed he was concealing something behind his back. “What have you got there?”

“Oh, this?” he asked innocently. “It’s just a canvas.”

“A canvas? Is it blank?”

“No.”

“Well, are you going to show me?”

“Maybe. Do you want to see it?”

“Yes. I am incredibly interested in its secrecy now, you old devil.” He turned away from her and placed it in front of her on the wall. He stood back and watched her admire it. It was a white canvas with nothing more but three, large triangles-- pink, orange, teal. She laughed. “You old devil!” she exclaimed. Her eyes watered. “Thank you…” she whispered and reached for him to kiss her. He did. 

The next day, she awoke to another canvas on the wall beside the first one. It had a sheet covering it. 

“What is it?” she asked.

“A canvas.”

“Is it blank?”

“No.”

“Are you going to show me?”

“Maybe. Do you want to see it?”

“Why, of course.” He uncovered the canvas dramatically by exaggeratedly pulling off the sheet concealing it. It was a painting of a green field. “You old devil!” she exclaimed. “Thank you…” And she reached for a kiss. 

The next day, a third canvas, concealed, was on the wall. They went through the same motions and he revealed it once again. This time, the painting was of a cliff by the sea. Every day something new and concealed appeared on the wall. Eventually the entire wall was filled with paintings or photographs- memories, dreams; wedding pictures, baby pictures, paintings done by grandchildren, the universe. And no longer was the room white and blank. 

One night, he shook her awake. 

“Can you sit up?”

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“You’ll see.”

He put her in a wheelchair and rolled her outside. It was summer and warm out-- the whole world seemed to be engulfed by the twilight of purple and blue in the sky. 

“Where are we going? I’m not supposed to be out.”

“You’ll see.” Their son was upfront, driving the van. 

“Hi, Mom!”

“Son!” They embraced and he began driving. They drove through the blue, dimming streets until the van stopped and the son and the husband helped her out. The ground was soft and cool, they wheeled her out until there was the faint sound of waves. She realized where she was. 

“The sea!” she exclaimed. 

“Yes,” he said. “The sea.”

“If you look up, you can see the stars begin to twinkle,” said their son.

“Yes, I see it…”

“I’m ready. We both are,” he said.

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes... Promise you’ll call me from the heavens. I’ll meet you there among the stars.”

“I promise.”

“You’ll dance among the stars.”

“...to dance among the stars,” she repeated. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. He held her one hand and their son held her other. She was barefoot and felt the cool water dampen her feet. A tear rolled down her cheek and she was gone. If you squint hard enough, you could see her up there already-- up among the stars, dancing. And he stood there, his eyes closed, his feet wet, his cheeks damp, and he waited for her call as she waited for his arrival.