Keepers of Kindness

You could usually hear Lumi before you saw her. Her rings chimed as she hurried to check a daisy, tuck in a teddy bear or show Noir an extraordinary pebble.

To Lumi, almost every pebble was extraordinary. Noir examined each one and found it a place on the shelf. When the shelf filled up, he made another.

“Coming!” Lumi called before a hug. “I can see that,” Noir replied, bracing himself. It usually helped.

Noir liked to do things carefully. He tied a gift ribbon three times and checked the warmth of Lumi’s cup. But he could never keep a surprise secret. “What have you got?” she asked. “Nothing.” “Flower-shaped nothing?” Every time, Lumi was delighted as if she had never guessed.

Noir rarely asked for a hug. Sometimes he moved his chair closer or held Lumi’s hand a little longer. She learned to notice. Those times, she simply nestled beside him.

They did not always agree. Lumi wanted to bring everything home; Noir wanted the door to open. When he suggested a whole branch might not fit on the table, Lumi turned away. Noir sat beside her and waited.

“Would a little branch fit?” “In a vase.” “Two?” Noir thought. “If I can have my teacup back.” Lumi handed it over. There were already three pebbles inside.

When Lumi was sad, Noir stayed beside her. When Noir tried to carry everything alone, Lumi took his hand. “We’ll carry this together.”

Their rings still tangled. They turned this way and that until one of them laughed. “You came too close again,” said Noir. Lumi nestled against him. “I know.” And Noir lowered the umbrella over them.

Kamilla Akhmin

The first raindrop landed on Lumi’s crystal. Then another. Wherever she stepped, the rain found her.

Noir appeared beside her and tilted his golden umbrella over her head. Lumi was dry, but water ran down Noir’s shoulder. She moved closer. Their rings chimed, caught and tangled.

They turned left, then right, and only became more entangled. At last they stood still. Lumi gently pulled the umbrella handle to the centre. Now there was room for both.

Ruby and amber light met in the water falling from its edge. Each drop turned golden for a moment.

Their rings eventually loosened, but neither stepped away. Later, they warmed their hands around two cups and watched the rain at the window. The golden umbrella dried by the door.

By morning the rain had stopped. They took it with them anyway. Somewhere, someone might need a shared shelter.

Kamilla Akhmin