She stands across the glass wall and looks out for him. Though the glass is opaque, they have always been able to see each other through it. She calls for him, softly, and then calls again, a little louder. But there’s just an eerie silence that scares her. He has always come when she called, didn’t he? Perhaps the glass is sound-proof now. Perhaps he can no longer hear her croon. The glass was once so delicate, she thought they’d break it someday. The shards would have torn through the skin of their souls, and yet she had not been afraid. He hadn’t been afraid either.
She reminisced about the times they would take on different roles, like characters in a book. If she’d call him 'this', he’d call her 'that'…and then, they would magically turn into these characters. They’d speak in alien tongues and mimic various personae. With him, she could be anything she wanted to be and so could he. But the best of all was, that they could be themselves in spite of the characters they donned, never having to resort to pretence. Masks sometimes have more truths hidden under them than transparent veils, don’t they? He'd flirt a little and make her blush, he’d pull her leg, and make her laugh. She would laugh long and hard until her jaws ached, her stomach hurt and her eyes overflowed with tears! No one had ever made her laugh so much before! They had shared their joys, their triumphs and their apprehensions. They didn’t have to find solutions to problems, it was just about the sharing.
He had a way with his words, contorting them into a labyrinth, before letting them fly into a world hitherto unknown. It was under him, that she had metamorphosed from a caterpillar into a butterfly; learning to let her words wander into realms she’d never dreamt of before. If her words ever wandered away, he gently catch them and hand them back to her. But more than anything, he had made her look deep into the abyss of her soul and find that part of her which had somehow been lost.
Where was he now? Why wouldn’t he answer her call? She would never know. All that she knew was that she’d never give up.
She stood facing the glass wall for some more time. No luck. She’d have to come back again tomorrow, and perhaps yet again another day.
