Ephemeral

This is my 1st creative writing assignment piece from last term. It's quite short, but I only got marked on my reflection for it (which I'm not posting because it's quite boring.)

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(Paper Cup Phone by zitosqu on flickr)

Ephemeral

Somewhere above the heavy clouds, a thousand strings stretched, long and distressed. They travelled for miles connecting each skyscraper to the next, an entanglement of wires and words that ended with a tin can or paper cup and a pair of strained eardrums and chapped lips. These ears and lips relied on the strings to safely carry their words across distances their limbs could not reach. Whispered pleas, excited chatter, yelling matches between lawyers and divorcees, tears of sadness between widowers: The cat destroyed the curtains today – I love you! – She weighs seven pounds and her eyes are like stars – I won’t give her a cent even if they send me to jail. These were the last words of a dying race, and the strings proudly held them in the air, with the fleeting sadness of possession, like a letter about to be sent.

Sometimes the strings tired. Their once eclectic colours frayed and dulled under pressure. Sometimes words were lost. Sometimes they collected at unknown points, or were scrambled in the crowd of sounds. And one night, without warning, as if in resolute protest, they began to droop under the weight of emotion. They sank through the clouds, perspired under its blankets of moisture. A storm stirred in the belly of the sky. A single bolt of light, loud and crackling, tore through the streams of string, breaking its hold from their puppeteers. Their last dance showered with the ephemeral vivacity of sparks.

Smoke filled the air, and sadness.

The lightning had carried through the string and into thousands of mouths that had swallowed fire. They croaked and clutched their throats but their cries went unheard, because they were now deaf to each other. And the string fell a thousand times over, in victory, and in silence.