Changing Scenes

I wait in silence on the breezy hillside, watching as Apollo finishes his daily ride. Above the horizon beams Venus the golden, sinking west flanked by her fair maidens. Purple-fingered twilight paints the blue black, informing everyone of the night's back.

No one, still no one has arrived.

I feel my nerves quivering, in the atmosphere unrest sets in. The city stretching down the slope is gradually lit by a myriad of dazzling beads, with unavailing attempts to dissipate the permeating dreariness. Three years it have been since my last visit to this place, where I had spent those early innocent days. Nevertheless the whole lot has already changed beyond remembrance.

I ponder over my cousin's absence with dampened exuberance, when there comes over a fit of dizziness. The ground is grey and stark, overlain with grime and dust, yet I slowly drift into Morpheus's arms. The hazing empyrean above is studded with innumerable sapphires, among which our Gemini is the brightest, still shining up there.

When my family were residing here a few years ago, outside my home there were expanses of lush jungle, beyond which stretched houses of our friendly folks, resting in well-tended shrubbery along sinuous roads. Indubitably it was the most memorable period of my life, which used to be a bed of roses flourishing in the bygone time.

The one most intimate with me was my cousin, a boisterous but conscientious young guardian. What endeared him most to me was a sense of fraternity, displaying its cordiality despite a tint of naivety. He was fond of going outdoors on the cloudless nights, leading me on a tour of the boundless skies.

Bounding up the pristine knoll, we sat in a glade on the gentle slope. On her moon chariot Artemis drove alone, across the heavens where countless stars shone. She, with goddess-befitting grace, bent down to view our dwelling place, dreamlike yet so shadowy, sleeping in a tract of gossamer silvery.

The aerial zoo is simply irresistible. My cousin exclaimed in excitement irrepressible.

Yet I merely curled up, shuddering in the crisp boreal gust.

Hey, do you want a hug? He slipped off his jacket and muffling me up with it, which genuinely warmed my heart as he folded me in his arms. Now you must feel as snug as a bug in a rug! So follow me, look in the direction I am pointing This is Cancer the crab gigantic, and the muscular ox Taurus just beside it.

Turning round in the wintry air, I asked whether they feel cold there.

Things above never change. It is spring throughout. My cousin pinched my cheek mildly with a wide smile.

That sounds lovely, but aren't they lonely? I mean here in spring we could play with our animal buddies, but those in the sky got no cronies. I sighed with mixed feelings.

Not exactly. He was still beaming. Look, can you recognise the almost symmetrical cluster of stars between the crab and the ox over us?

This time I had my head shook, on my face perplexity engraved.

That is the constellation of ours! he said in a tone of profound pride, yelled with laughter and hugged me tight. On the left is me the boy of bigger size, and the younger you is on the right. See, we are strolling hand in hand in our Elysian field on the heavens, as we both believe, for eternity, never feeling lonely. His arm rose and his hand settled on my shoulder, whereas I tilted my head to rest in his arms, dreaming sweetly.

There was no breeze stroking our ruddy faces, no brook babbling around our bodies, no owls hooting or crickets chirping, because outside it was chilly. However, I felt as though a meadow was stretching out right in front, with verdant cedars towering above, aromatic petals drifted about and iridescent Aurora cast her liberal light down. Once again, I was able to feel the snugness inside our hearts, as my ego melted into a sweep of red-hot affections and ardour.

My memory is still fresh about that special day, on which we met for the last time before moving away. Our Eden was to be replaced by civilisation, the way leading to a change.

Will we manage to watch our stars together again? I asked once more, my face tear-stained.

He consoled me with a usual confident grin, giving my arm a squeeze out of reassuring. I promise I will expect you four years later in our place. Things will never alternate.

After residing with my parents far afield for so long a time, I am finding myself alienated from this town. Meanwhile, everything seems to be changing. No, not our guarantee. Now here I am, awaiting the other half of my constellation to arrive. Tell me, I am not squandering my time; tell me, his assurance will never escape his memory, as he had said, for eternity.

Notwithstanding, nothing is happening. Only my eyesight is blurring and the spirits within become languid and sleepy. I suddenly realise that my valued childhood is now deeply interred under a concrete gravestone, in the midst of this concrete jungle, its innocence faded, its romance evaporated, its everything disappearing from the scene.

No one, still no one has arrived.

Was that to be our inescapable destiny, even for our inseparable Gemini?