Sunset

There is a place on the Isle of the Lost that is almost beautiful, where you can watch the sun set. Carlos and Claudine come there sometimes.

It is a barren cliff, made of gray rock and brown earth, without even a single stunted tree or scraggly bush growing out of it. It is not beautiful, but you can see the sky from there, and the sky is beautiful.

It is a twenty-meter drop off the edge to the rocks sticking out of the sea below. The edge is often crumbly and unstable, yet Carlos and Claudine come anyway.

They come alone, whenever they can, to be alone.

Carlos sits at the edge, staring at something no one else can see, his arms wrapped around his knees, murmuring to himself the names of the Dalmatian puppies and the fur treatment methods his mother insists he know by heart, jumping at any loud, sudden noises.

Claudine slips out sometimes, when she is sure her father will not notice her disappearance. She watches the sun set, staring blankly at the sky, her arms wrapped around herself, muttering in the French and Latin her father insists she know by heart, flinching at any loud, sudden noises.

Carlos and Claudine come here and watch the sun set, watch the gray waves pounding the gray rocks far below, occasionally tossing pebbles into the sea.

They enjoy the quiet. They enjoy the solitude.

It is good, sometimes, to be alone.

Sometimes they end up on the cliff at the same time.

Carlos reaches the cliff and sees Claudine already there. He hesitates, but she doesn't acknowledge him. Her eyes are closed, and she is humming, looking almost peaceful, for once.

Carlos sits on the very edge of the cliff, his legs dangling over the edge, heedless of the danger. He watches the sun slowly arc down through the gray clouds, turning the sky pink and crimson.

Claudine sits several feet away from the edge of the cliff, cross-legged, watching the sun slowly arc down through the gray clouds, turning the sky scarlet and violet, in a display that takes her breath away. Beauty is fleeting, but for the moment, it is wonderful.

They sit silently for a while, watching.

The clouds darken as night approaches.

Claudine rubs her left arm; it aches, often, before it rains; she has long since learned to reach and gesture with her right hand only.

Thunder rumbles in the distance, sounding almost exactly like the growling of a dog. Carlos starts and looks around nervously, his heart hammering.

Lightning flashes, a streak of white fire among the dark gray clouds, indigo sky, and fading blue, pink, and gold. Claudine flinches and draws back.

The sun dips below the horizon; the sky is completely black now, with a few silver pinpricks glimmering, but most of the stars are covered by storm clouds.

It begins to rain.

Carlos and Claudine stand up at the same time and walk carefully away from the cliff edge. They must get back home and dry themselves off, quickly, quickly, before their respective parents notice they have been gone.

Just before they part ways Carlos and Claudine pause and look at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. Then they walk away from each other, to their own houses, their own parents, their own lives.

But it is good, sometimes, not to be alone.