I endeavoured to write a short story - actually, it's rather a short scene in English. It will probably still need to be corrected and revised, since my English is quite poor. Anyway, here we go...
Rooftop
„Forgive me, Joan...but I cannot share it with you, “Curtis said softly, answering Joan’s unspoken thoughts – thoughts she knew she’d never dared to speak out. „I want you to keep them in your mind and in your heart the way they were, when you saw them in these science documentaries and interviews…living...vivid...full of hope, enthusiasm and energy. “Curtis felt his composure slipping. He clenched his fists inwardly, struggling to detach himself from all these emotions that dwelled in a place of his soul he was only rarely ready to explore.
Joan’s voice was a mere whisper: „But what about you...you have to bear...“, she couldn’t continue, but simply tried to convey her notion in a look.
„It’s different for me, Joan. I had the chance to share my life with them for a while, to touch them, hear their voices and partake in all their daily joys and sorrows. This Impression is much stronger than...” his voice trailed off, “you know?”
There it is again, his brave, radiant smile, Joan thought, but to her, it seemed it did reveal more of his pain than he could possibly be aware of.
Curtis took a few deep breaths and let his gaze rest on a tiny fisher boat out on the sea. It was a common sight; but Curtis has always been able to take so much comfort from common things. Deep down, he was a common guy born into a most uncommon life, raised by three most uncommon beings. But this audacious combination widened his horizon of thinking, perceiving and comprehending way beyond the humanly possible.
Joan longed for Curtis to allow her in to his singular world, his past, his memories of the day, when Victor Corvo had extinguished the two brightest, warmest and most important stars in his sky.
Joan’s mentor and friend, Ezra Gurney, had once told her, that tragedy has the power to bring out the very best in people and make them strong and deeply compassionate. On the other hand, it can darken their souls and crush their faith for a lifetime. Joan had often reflected on these words of experience; and her own experience taught her that in the face of tragedy, choosing faith over desperation was an act of courage and strength. Curtis had surely chosen faith! But in this night, Joan could sense the sadness he so carefully tried to hide. It was such a fragile equilibrium.
The sun was about to set and immersed the sky and the sea, lavishly stretched out in front of Joan and Curtis, in a deep fiery red. Hand in hand, the young people stood on the rooftop of Curtis’ secluded little house on the beach, that once belonged to his parents. Reddish clouds slowly drifted past and revealed the crescent of the waxing moon. Joan secretly promised the moon to be patient and wait, until Curtis war ready to open up to her; she would wait forever, if she had to.
“Happy wedding day mommy and daddy”, Curtis whispered, and his love conquered the unsearchable veil between him, Roger and Elaine. He suddenly reached out and took Joan into his arms, not intending to let her go again anytime soon.