ne(one)piphany

“I’m so happy for you,” she whispered, and meant it; the first time, truly, since she’d started saying it.
 
“Thank you,” said her friend, her sometime sister, and her heart broke again.
 
Silently, they made their way toward the platform. Jehanne searched for words again, knowing that they wouldn’t come. Finally, when they had reached the train’s doors, she turned to her companion.
 
“It’s like the song, you know. ‘Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.’” Inside, she wondered if they would ever meet again.
 
Alexa turned away, and shook her head, her eyes hidden. “Friendship is thicker than blood. You’ll see.”
 
But sometimes, you still bleed, thought Jehanne. Friendship wasn’t thick at all; it was a gossamer thread, fragile to the faintest touch. She reached out, as if to grasp at its ephemeral beauty one last time, but it was too late — the doors had closed. Within, Alexa placed her fingertips on the glass, already a thousand miles away.