A Love Story? – Chapter Seven

This story is no longer available on the blog. If you want to read the finished draft, drop me an email through the contact form and I’ll mail the word document to you.


A Second Chance

It was as hot as I’d ever remembered. Just blistering. Only peace came from a stiff, brisk breeze. Leaves mingled with trash as they blew through the passages and side streets. I’d just stopped at the office when the news reached me. On my way to the stairs that led to my cabin, I bought a cup of coffee and used the seven flights of stairs that led to client management floor. I passed a gentle smile to anyone I met in-between my journey to my cabin of solitude. So often people believe that a laugh means happiness. A smile is my only lie.

I brought my cup of coffee to my lips, and I drank it now like it was whiskey, a sip and then a long one. I walked over to the window and reflected on my dull surroundings. My reflection in mirror looked cross and my emotions raw. The person who stared back at me, the one I always saw was the person whose existence I’ve always denied. Strangely I felt like the world around me had moved on and I was nothing more than a relic, an antique, out of its time. We all get one chance to do the right thing, and no matter what we make us believe there is always just one way.

I just couldn’t help but remember the storm that destroyed everything I knew. I hate getting flashbacks from things I do not want to remember.

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IBMC #06: The Mass Media Challenge

“I am truly a ‘lone traveller’ and have never belonged to my country, my home, my friends, or even my immediate family, with my whole heart; in the face of all these ties, I have never lost a sense of distance and a need for solitude.” — The World As I See It by Albert Einstein.

The sun had fallen. Pure Crimson sky, streaked by few splashes of blue and violet here and there, and no hint of anything else. My flesh bubbled with goosebumps from the chills that ran down my spine. It was cold. The cold air, gently bouncing over the waves added their own twist to the mercury’s struggle.

The evening was bitter cold.

“I just want us to agree this is part of who we are,” The woman sitting in the chair spoke.

I let the silence stretch, fighting the lurch in my guts and the anger that wanted expression. My mind utterly in distress, the silent war, the emotional conflict raging in my head. The shrill sound of the telephone ringing broke me out of my insecurities.

“For better or worse?” I intoned.

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You’re not God

“We all pay for our sins, but not by going to some biblical hell when we die, not by getting whipped till our skin gets ripped, we suffer all there is to suffer in hell right here. Guilt, that’s suffering enough. Wishing to kill yourself, abhorring your own existence that stinks more than any hell hole.”

“What have I done to deserve all this guilt I feel running my veins, edging past every inhibition, searing my identity like a sharp blade?”

“You loved someone more than you ever loved yourself, your heartbeat was in harmony with your wife’s. Love makes you do crazy things, things no sane person will do in their right practical mind.”

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