THE UNDERSTANDING
What is it you want? he asked.
Looking at him. As though she thought he had something to say and could find the words to say it. The words no one else had yet found or said.
What is it? he repeated.
Her eyes an open darkness. Leading to a corridor of black mirrors. As though at the end was a locked door and behind it the final secret.
What?
Within that hallway of silence, her breathing, the beating of her heart. As though echoing his questions. Waiting, hoping for the answers.
If you would tell me, he said.
Pinpoints of light straining towards the threshold through a soft warm mist. As though they would help him to see, to slip across barriers of being.
If I knew—
Blind beams behind opaque windows. As though in an act of desperation, a man might hurl a stone. The shuddering tinkle of shattered glass.
Here, he said, you take the stone.
Placing it in her hands so that she could feel it, roll it between her palms, sense it through her fingers. An ineffable, tangible continuum.
I give it to you, it's yours.
The whole, beautiful truth, God helping. Love solidly immured within its mineral heart. Ticking away the centuries, immune to change.