she opened her arms and the world fell into her loving embrace. warm and nestled between her breasts, sheltered from the ongoing storms. whispering sweet nothings to keep the bad thoughts at bay. a lone tear travelling down her rosy cheek. she held on like it was the only thing that mattered.

and she was.

he stood, tall and foreboding with a stern look of disapproval etched into his eyes. resigned to the fight that was sure to come and hoping it passed as quickly as it came. he had his role, and as much as he hated it, he would fulfill it.

and he did.

they danced and laughed like nothing else mattered. it was their party and they were going to enjoy every awkward movement. that made it more fun. the sheer bliss in their laughter filled every corner of the room and anyone stumbling in could not help but smile and laugh with them.

and they did.

it hunkered down on a makeshift bed of leaves. moldy and wet from the rain and smelling of dank rot. it shivered as the wind blew, cold and alone. sorrow filled it’s soul to near overflowing. raindrops, like little chunks of ice and fear, pounced upon its huddled form. it curled up tighter for to relax would surely be it’s death.

and it would.

never once did they meet. their separate trials and tribulations were their’s and their’s alone. she could not shelter it any more than he could join them in laughter. this was not the way of things. this had been foretold long before their birth. this was destiny, this was fate. this was inevitable. occasionally they would catch glimpses of each other, mere flashes of something else in a realm of constant. tantalizing whiffs of new scents echoing through cosmos. enough to dream. enough to entice. she would clutch tighter. he would scowl deeper. they would laugh lighter. it would peek it’s head up momentarily. but this was not meant to be.

this was not.

but one more was there. ever put of sight but watching carefully. this one looked for weakness. this one looked to see a crack in the facade. scurrying across the edges trying to find a breach. one misstep was all it would take and this one would reek havoc. always searching. always hoping. always just beyond view. this one knew it was all bound to crumble. this one had foresight.

this one does.

once a speckled bush grew, pushing it’s way through the rocky soil of somewhere else. furtively sprouting and pushing ever upward towards the light. yearning to feel the warmth of the sun. roots taking hold beneath the gravel in the good brown soil. would it yield berries or thorns, it did not know or care. it just was what it was, a simple bush trying to grow.

as it finally made it ever upward to the light it instinctively knew to be there a small bug came along. this small speck of green must have seemed to be a feast for the little thing. it had spent it’s entire life looking something. it was hard searching something when you had no clue what it could be. it had found a leaf once, floating happily on a breeze. was this thing for which it was searching? it watched the merry way it spun and drifted on invisible strings until it was a speck in the distance. no, surely that was not. another time it came upon a puddle, small and easily stepped over for someone as mighty as you but to it a lake with no end in sight. a tentative sniff and happy sip proclaimed it was good. and it was. but this new thing, green and small, this was possibly it. a long journey nearing it end, the little bug took a small nibble. so busy wondering if this was the point in it’s lifelong travels it didn’t see the bird.

the bird was smart. it gently floated on the currents of air, much like the leaf but without the happy go lucky attitude. it floated and peered about the ground beneath. watching carefully and keenly for anything that seemed out of place. it had circled this land for time untold, mostly because it had no real concept of time. and when it saw the bug begin. to feast on the sprouting bush it quickly took action. it flew fast and sharply straight to where it munched happily. perhaps too fast. perhaps the wind decided to help a bit too efectively. perhaps it had just slightly misjudged speed and distance. it swooped and instead of majestically snatching the bug it crushed it a it’s head hit the rocky soil. it’s little neck snapped. the bird and prey both taken in by the tricky mistress gravity.

the little bush had no idea any of this happened. a moment of discomfort as the first nibble occurred and then back to the struggle to grow. which was made easier by the two now very dead things lying around it. their nutrient rich bodies decaying in the hot sun and filling the ground around them. and so the bush grew. the unwitting cause of the bug and bird’s demise.

eventually it did blossom. bright and cheerful flowers that turned into dark and deadly berries. so many that the branches pointed down towards the ground from their weight. it was a good life. one of fulfillment. the bones of those who died so it may prosper hidden under fallen leaves and berries.

a new bird came and made a nest in the upper most branches of the bush. a home befitting a king that hovered on the currents above, ever vigilant.

little bugs travelled far to find the thing for which they sought but had never seen. they took shelter beneath and happily ate the fallen leaves far from the prying eyes of the bird.

and all was good. and all was right. for every thing was in its rightful place. the bugs ate. the birds soared. the one searched. it sought shelter. they laughed. he watched. and she protected.

as it should be.