After months alone, in silence, waiting for her return—longing for her touch or kiss again—Arianna came to him one night and led him by the hand into a dark room where it was vast and cold. Our lives are like rooms separated by corridors, she explained, we pass through many on our journey—a doorway from one is a doorway into another. But he must travel this one alone without fear of the dark now, for the thousands of lanterns that shimmer quietly are hearts burning with love, and they will never extinguish; love will heal all, be warmed by its light, hold it close so he may see his own shadow striding beside him, and when he is ready to look for her in another room; she gave him a lantern, their fingers lingering as they kissed, she tasted of almonds and wine, before departing like a gentle breeze that passes in the night .
Written for Three Line Tales, Week 92.
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