Sing Me

He’s been waiting, following the piece of string that extends at his pinky. It’s red, a color that he only associates with the ills of this world. It was the color of jealousy, which brought ruin unto his family and his village. Red was the color of blood, a reminder that he earned the destiny to live on forever and never die.

When he learns that he never ages, John refuses to bring anyone into his life. He rejects the society as it modernizes with each passing year and each passing decade. The only time he emerges from his life of recluse is when the string at his finger pulls.

Finally as he traverses a crowd in an industrial land, he feels it. It’s faint, but it’s there.

John jolts towards her, maneuvering the people in the streets. He swears he’ll meet her in every life.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said in between breaths.

Claire, or whatever she was named as in this life, looked back at him. His chest rose and fell continuously since John squeezed every last breath in his lung because he wasn’t going to let her get away from her this time. His heart tightened in its chamber. It did that in every life since the very beginning that their souls were created.

Red was also the color of love. John always loved Claire and the string was only evidence that it was fate.