you stood with him on this mountain, both surveyed the land. It rained, it was cold.
He held an umbrella in his right hand over the two. She tried his hand at which they could hold on to. She reached into the void. Her eyes wandered to him. When she looked at him so from the side, she saw him smile, then she noticed he had his left hand in his pocket.
"I'm cold." She said quietly and waited briefly for a reaction from him - in vain.
"I'm cold," she said, now with more vigor, but soon taught her head down ashamed as she again gets no reaction from him.
passes some time in which neither they, nor spoke a word, or change their looks.
He, his face in the distance, they directed her to the ground.
And then he turns it to her.
"Hey, what's going on?" He asked.
you just shrugged his shoulders, said nothing.
"We're not really here, right?" She asked.
"No." he replied. "But we once were. You can register just do not remember. "
" Yes I can. We were up here. I liked it. "She replied.
"You pushed me down here." He remarked almost incidental.
"I'm sorry." She said softly.
"The fact that you have met me, or that you were suddenly alone?" He asks.
you nothing.
"I must go." He said firmly.
"Where?" She asked.
"Stay here yet." She said, almost demanding.
"You know we are not really here, right?" He asked.
She nodded slightly. "Yes, I thought to myself already. "
" You know, I was up there with you. I would have stayed. I once told you, I'm happy here. And that was me. But, I can not stay, because I now know this is not our mountain. And you share it only in the storm. Only in the rain. Show. Once the sun comes up, they wet your clothes have dried, you will not reach for my hand. "He explained.
And she wept.
"Do not cry. It's okay. I gave you everything and I gave you love. ", He told her, almost caring.
"I miss you." She said. "I love you."
"I know. I will always love you somehow and I will you always somehow missing. But, I'm not just anybody and I can not hold your umbrella. "He said and closed the screen and gave it to her.
"Is now the parting?" She asked.
"Yes. This is also a farewell, for you have taken a long time ago bye to me. "He replied.
"So is this a dream?" She asked.
"no. This is no dream. "
" What is it? "
" It's just a story. A History of the End, published on an Internet blog. Bela Glos overflown by some foreign people who know you and not me, but on a Twitter Links are followed. "Then he turned away from her, and without once looking back, he went on.
And yet, in short, he paused again. You saw it, raised her head and then heard the last words she would ever hear from him.
"Lisa, you realize this is not your hill, right?" She saw him not smiling, but somehow she felt it.
And then she saw it. It was his mountain, he had taken with her, he had led them to the summit and he was huge. This they did until now, when it stood at its foot and in his shadow looked up.
"You could write a happy ending," she cried against the endlessly distant peak.
"You could write a happy ending!"
Lisa did not notice that this was a happy ending, just not her.
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