Shades of Evanescence

by Michaela Tashjian

She wore her silkiest, most flattering dress on the night that was his last in the house. He sat there in his stillest pose on the bed they’d shared for two years. By the tenseness of his back and shoulders, she could tell that he was thinking hard. In the mirror they both faced, she looked at her own reflection, almost aesthetic enough to make him regret his departure as much as she did. But she didn’t want to think that was her motive in putting on the dress. She cast her eyes away from herself and onto her husband’s face, whose reflection had already been staring at her.

On the wall adjacent to them, the lamplight shone across their bodies, casting their silhouettes onto the wall. She looked out the window to avoid catching his stare again. The sun sank lower behind the houses, another day gone. The sun always moved, never spending more time in one place than in another. That way, it never got attached.

She turned her eyes onto the lamp, and then again at the shadows it cast onto the wall. For the next night and each one after that, it would no longer cast two shadows, but one.

Shadows used to be playful things. On their honeymoon, they spent hours careening in the shallow waves and watching their shadows dance on the sand. But they never stayed in one place.

If only the sun was more like the lamp, it would never move, and tomorrow wouldn’t come, and he wouldn’t have to go.

She woke from her reverie to a hand on her forearm, which was crossed with her other. Her husband’s eyes spoke many things that could not be explained with words. He reached with his other hand to turn out the lamp. Their shadows disappeared. Only the afterthought of their figures remained as he carried her off to bed.

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Writers Bio

Michaela Tashjian is a writer from Schenectady, New York. She spends most of her time studying English, writing creatively, and building relationships with the people around her. To read more of her stories, articles, and poems, visit

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