A Tale from The Lotus Chronicles
Three cracks marred the glass. Each one jagged. Each one sharp. Each one a cruel reminder that what once was, would never be again. The window was small. It was less than common, but at least it had once been whole. At least there’d been a time when someone could look out it and see the blue skies beyond. Now all he could see were the cracks. The fissures that would forever mare its surface. Fissures that could never be filled. Crevasses that could never be crossed.
When she came to him, she stood at the bars to his cell. Silent. He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. He stared at the cracks. It was nearing dark when she spoke. The sun having dropped behind the mountains.
“Our son is dead.”
Her words cut deeper than any curse. After everything they had gone through to have their children. To build their family… He’d failed.
He couldn’t look at her. His shame prevented him from even acknowledging her. When full dark came, she left, and he could no longer see the cracks. But they were there. They would always be there.