Tears

The room was dark. The only visible light was coming from above the curtain rod. It was a soft, glowing light. She lay on her bed, gazing up at the ceiling. Like timid little creatures, they crept up to the corners of her eyes. It only took one blink to send them running down the sides of her cheeks. They took refuge near her ears. “There, now” she could almost hear them say. Fresh tears kept pooling beneath her eyelids, patiently awaiting their send-off. She turned on her side. At a slower pace, one tear gently traced a half moon beneath her cheekbone before nestling itself between her lips. It tickled just a bit. There is comfort in crying silently, she thought at that moment. No touch is as gentle as the caress of your own teardrops. There is no need for explanations, for they know everything and never will they take offense by your silence – they find it all the more pressing. Her face felt feverish, yet the grouping that had accumulated at the nape of her neck had a cooling effect. She skimmed the surface of her pillow in search of a cooler and drier spot to lay her heavy head. Although unaware of how much time had gone by or how long it would take for the pain to subside, she knew her supply of tears would not run dry until that time had come.