In this short scene, two people meet to say goodbye, though they never quite say the word. The speaker is caught between grief and paralysis: tears rise but won’t fall, and she wants to touch the other person but her hand trembles. They both talk about meeting again, yet inside they know the separation is final. The quiet room makes the ticking clock feel enormous, like a horse galloping through darkness—the only sound strong enough to express their tension. When they embrace, even their heartbeats seem stifled. The other person says something meant to comfort, then leaves. Afterward, the world shifts; the clock grows faint and distant, and the speaker whispers that if it stops, she will die. That last line turns the clock into a fragile hold on life, not just a measure of time. The overall mood is tense, sorrowful, and intimate.
The Meeting — Summary
We started speaking, Looked at each other, then turned away. The tears kept rising to my eyes But I could not weep. I wanted to take your hand But my hand trembled. You kept counting the days Before we should meet again. But both of us felt in our hearts That we parted for ever and ever. The ticking of the little clock filled the quiet room. “Listen,” I said. “It is so loud, Like a horse galloping on a lonely road, As loud as that--a horse galloping past in the night.” You shut me up in your arms. But the sound of the clock stifled our hearts’ beating. You said, “I cannot go: all that is living of me Is here for ever and ever.” Then you went. The world changed. The sound of the clock grew fainter, Dwindled away, became a minute thing. I whispered in the darkness, “If it stops, I shall die.”