Fyodor Vasilyev: Pond at the Sunset (1871) Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain
I.
The boy was reading Rubaiyat:
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
The boy gazed thru’ the window. His eyes looked dreamy.
He CLOSED the book.
II.
The girl was waiting.
She sat by a pond and the southern breeze was blowing through her hair.
The last rays of sun were reflecting off the water.
At the edge of the pond, some birds were chirping. The girl stared at them silently and whispered:
One for sorrow, Two for joy,
Three for a girl, Four for a boy,
Five for silver, Six for gold,
Seven for a secret, Never to be told.
The girl took off her glasses. The last rays of light were reflecting off her eyes. She started counting birds:
One…two…three…four…five…six…seven.
The sun was almost down.
The girl was waiting.
P.S.
(I don’t know whether the sundown was the end of the story or just the beginning. But whatever it might be, the rest is secret…a secret that never to be told.)
The boy was reading Rubaiyat:
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
The boy gazed thru’ the window. His eyes looked dreamy.
He CLOSED the book.
II.
The girl was waiting.
She sat by a pond and the southern breeze was blowing through her hair.
The last rays of sun were reflecting off the water.
At the edge of the pond, some birds were chirping. The girl stared at them silently and whispered:
One for sorrow, Two for joy,
Three for a girl, Four for a boy,
Five for silver, Six for gold,
Seven for a secret, Never to be told.
The girl took off her glasses. The last rays of light were reflecting off her eyes. She started counting birds:
One…two…three…four…five…six…seven.
The sun was almost down.
The girl was waiting.
P.S.
(I don’t know whether the sundown was the end of the story or just the beginning. But whatever it might be, the rest is secret…a secret that never to be told.)
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