One day Eva noticed she was standing on the edge of an invisible precipice. She was looking over every city, everywhere. She was looking at the mountains and the deserts and the oceans. She was looking at the
melting ice caps that book-ended every thing in between.
Eva cried and cried
Eva saw the people, they were walking all around in different sized circles. Most of them were following lies. Eva could see the lies that they followed. These lies looked like foggy grey string that magnetically pulled them along. Eva could see that many of these people became numb in the monotonous rhythm of the grey lies. As the people followed the grey foggy strings these lies slowly snaked around them until each person became engulfed in a blinding grey shadow.
Eva cried and cried.
From this place, above the world, Eva saw so much space. She could see some scattered sparks of hope, little iridescent polkadots bouncing around between the ice caps. Eva also saw so much pain, weaving and growing. The pain was a bluish grey, it was all around. It made her so sleepy.
Eva was tired, tired, tired.
Eva lay down to sleep. Her sleep was different now, with these new eyes. Eva cried in her dreams. Even when these dreams were funny, or when they didn’t make any sense at all, the tears made Eva's dreams glisten and reflected light around her being. Eva’s whole being was like the aurora borealis.
In the morning Eva woke. She lay in bed and watched the shapes play on the ceiling. Eva felt warm salty tears on her skin. She could taste the ocean. She remembered the way the air smelled when she walked along the beach. She could hear waves, and the wings of sea gulls beating against the morning sky. The wings and the waves made a sad, beautiful serenade. Eva sat up in bed, her tears flowed into a stream for her to follow. Eva’s bare feet splish splashed as she walked. There were puddles all around. Her tears began filling up everything, the bathtub, the sink, the cups, the fish bowl, vases, tea kettles, jars, cans, spoons, plates, and even the salt and pepper shakers. Eva couldn’t tell the difference between her sleeping or waking life.
Eva cried and cried.
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Eva walked outside, none of the people saw her tears. They just opened their umbrellas and walked on. Eva sat down on the red brick stoop. Her tears ran down her breasts and thighs, over her knees, onto her feet, down the steps, and into the garden. Her tears went on and on. The trees became very green. Slowly, slowly her garden turned into an aquarium teaming with the most lovely colored fishes and flowers anywhere. The clown fishes played and jumped over the streams of her tears. Eva cried and cried.
The sun came up and the sky was a brilliant blue. Blue just like Eva's eyes, which had those unstoppable tears. The people that walked past on their way to work, why they thought Eva was a fountain in front of the building.
The birdies found Eva.The birdies made little circles above Eva’s head. The birdies could see. The birdies could see Eva and her tears. They dropped ruby and violet flower petals gathered from the lush garden into Eva’s hair. Eva could feel soft kisses of love every time a petal traced a line down her neck or her back. The birdies decorated her, they sculpted her into the landscape of the garden.
Eva cried and cried.
Evening stars popped one by one through the blackness, that lazy moon winked low over in the distance. The light from these cosmic things danced in the reflections of Eva’s eyes and her tears. A green toad on a big leaf paddled from one place to another. Ancient dragon fly shimmied and zazooed on the surface. Little speckles of light sparkled all around the edges of their wings.
Eva cried and cried.
Even when it’s happy, it’s sad.
by, Carla Hayden
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