margaret_atwood – blackandwhiteandcolours

“To the elements be free,” he says to her. And, finally, she is.

They could do some line-dancing and other things together. It would be fun!

Lie back in a deck chair in the sun? Be restored by the salt air?

But everything is ephemeral, he reminds himself.

You’re coming back, right?

I’m not sure I’m entirely convinced.

You’re supposed to kind of earn it.

This shouldn’t get too far out of control.

That’s what he says, and that’s what he means.

My guess is, it was a bit of magic.

You can’t blame them, they’re like anyone.

Get it done. Whatever it is.

We all wrote this, I only happen to be the one reading it.

The air goes silent.

There’s nodding and murmuring around the room.

So, we decided he’s not an alien from space.

She’s a brave lass indeed!

There will be handshakes and toasts. There will be congratulations all round.

I need to think about this!

We haven’t really talked!

I want to show you something.

I gave you time and space, and you made your own use of it.

I think we should look on the bright side. Until we know for sure.

They look at one another. Ashen-faced, shaken.

Dark in here too, wherever here is.

Are they going back the way they came?

Would they be cursing, pleading, bemoaning their fate?

What would they be saying if they could hear?

The hour’s now come, she whispers to him.

Where’s the rest of the party?

Don’t be worried if there’s some strange noises, it’s part of the play.

We’re sailing you across the sea to a desert isle.