Two out of three are still A.’s friends. It’s good isn’t it. But when she was a child she had a special friend. The one she could share all secrets with.
They were inseparable, starting the day and finishing it together, playing, running, talking, doing everything together.
The first one to wake up would call for the other. Endless number of stones was thrown into the window panes.
Pacts were forged and promises made. Laughter and fun filled their days. But all good things in A.’s life had to at some point come to an end. She got used to this. The inevitable truth of her universe.
One day A. said one thing too many. She spoke without thinking and later was too proud, too stupid and too young to make amends.
Now she regrets, but there is nothing she can do. The two of them drifted so far away, the big chasm that opened that one day, the flooding river of emotions, regrets and misguided words was too narrow and too dangerous to cross.
And that’s how it is today.
Two silhouettes stand on each side of the embankment not able to cross the void between them. Silent, observing, regretful.