Leanora’s Lament

The rain didn’t fall that cold December morn as Leanora stood there staring out the window dreaming of rainy summer afternoons, the delight having been had with a paramour of such allure, a lady from the vastness of time, a beauty to behold. Or was it just a dream. Who knows. Leanora couldn’t tell anymore the barrier between what is, what was, and what never will be. She found herself in the backyard some evenings staring at the stars above, whether visible or not, her gaze flying through the depths of the universe, lightyears in milliseconds, through the great fog of space and time. The neighbors thought of her as a soothsayer, a seer of all, a shaman in LL Bean. She had been gone for days before anyone noticed she was gone. The house empty lifeless yet there. Windows dark in the evening, no smoke coming from the chimney. There’s something sad about a still house with no motion or commotion on the insides. The walls a barrier to nothing, protecting no one. No shelter from the storm. She rallies herself in mid thought, turns away from the window, looks down to the floor, dresses to go out for the day. Nothing really to say but hello or goodbye. Which one would it be today.