u/Plastic_Medicine_201

The sun hangs low—
a soft wound in the sky,
spilling gold and pink
through the ribs of the trees
that lean over the creek like they’re listening.
Water moves slowly below,
dragging pieces of light along its skin,
as if the day is already forgetting itself.
Kylee stands at the edge of the bridge,
raven hair caught in a wandering breeze,
not quite stirred—
not quite still either,
like something paused mid-thought
by forces older than time.
She watches the horizon
the way one might watch a door
that never fully closes.
Behind her, Adam sits—
knees drawn up,
grey shirt wrinkled like forgotten hours,
hands idle against worn wood.
His eyes stay on her
for a long, quiet stretch of nothing.
Not curiosity.
Not comfort.
Something closer to recognition
without understanding the shape of it.
The creek breathes beneath them.
And then she speaks—
“What would it be like to be lost?”
soft as dusk folding inward.
“You could just disappear at any moment…”
A pause—
like even the air hesitates.
“I wonder if people would have time
to shed tears?”
The words fall gently,
like something beautiful
that doesn’t realize it is sharp.
The sky keeps burning itself down to night.
The water keeps moving forward
as if nothing has ever stayed.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting shadows through the trees that stretch around the small creek. The water moves slowly, catching strips of gold and pink from the fading light, like the sky has spilled itself into the current

A soft breeze blew Kylee’s raven hair as she stood, watching the sky. The colors of the sky paint her stillness in warm tones, but she feels distant from them. 

Behind her, Adam sits near the bridge railing, knees pulled up close to his chest. His grey t-shirt is wrinkled and worn, like it’s been through too many days without much thought given to replacing it. One hand rests loosely on the wood beside him, fingers occasionally tapping without rhythm. His eyes—dull in the way exhaustion becomes permanent rather than temporary—stay on Kylee for a quiet moment.

The creek murmurs below them, steady and indifferent.
Kylee finally speaks without turning.
“Do you ever think about it?” she asks softly. “What it would be like… to be lost?”
A pause. The wind shifts again, brushing through the trees.
“You could just disappear at any moment,” she continues, voice almost thoughtful rather than concerned. “I wonder if people would have time to shed tears?”

The creek keeps moving. The sky keeps burning down toward night.
And for a moment, neither of them says anything else.