It slipped effortlessly, leaving a glistening trail as it made its way to his chin. He blinked hard, causing another two tears to follow in quick succession. He tore his eyes away from the blaring screen that bore words that equally tore at his heart.
He wrung his hands into a knot of frustration at his inability to lend them to lessen her sadness. He wanted to gently stroke her cheeks dry of the tears that were creating craters in her soul; he wanted to massage her shoulders to lighten the load that had been dumped on them; he wanted to hold out his arms for her to fall into an embrace of security against the daggers being thrusted into her back.
But the seas of the world threw their banks up against him; red tape held his arms tightly together; the green paper knocked him in his knees. He was helpless.
So he blinked hard, forcing pearls of liquid salt to tumble to his chin as he whispered, “I’m sorry,” hoping merciful winds would carry it to her.
© LaYinka Sanni, October 2011.