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A short story of a woman who suffered a lot from hate

Submitted:Feb 4, 2008    Reads: 82    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

I palsied two years before his death. Two years after, my children decided to change our home furniture. I heard her telling her brother, " she will keep fluctuate on his bed till she dies after him!" She was almost sad and angry. "Let us change the old furniture might she forget his smell might her yearning leave her eyes and she forgets him! Oh my God! How much she had loved him!" I heard him laughing, he replied," I wish you, modern women, consider love as she did!"
I smiled.
They moved one piece of furniture after another taking them out. I did not interrupt. I sat there, on my wheelchair with a wrap on my lap. I was quite like a lamp. My eyes followed the pieces. I was sinking deeply in the waves of my thoughts, when I heard my daughter says, "Mom, do you want this picture here?" I replied, "Which one?" She signed to the wall. I followed her finger to the spot she was signing to, "This! my dad's!" I was taken! Looking at the picture amazingly, said with a trembling sound," How it comes! Who fixed it here? I did not see it before!" Astonished the two answered me," Mom, it was here all the time!"
I looked again; saw a picture with an old wooden frame. My eyes fixed on it for a while, and then moved to the picture itself, and stayed on it for a while I did not know how long it was.
His eyes, stocked all his victories in his struggles with me, a look that assaulted my soul, frightened her, then locked it up in his breast cage until his breaths shrank, and choked him. His foul hands upon his lap rose against my face every time I asked for a right or felt a need. His hands used to sustain to repress all my wishes. In addition, a yellow smile used to laugh on my feelings.
Never mind, all that is not important now. Because what make me astonished is, how it comes that I did not see this picture before?
It is amazing! How we ignore what we hate until it slaps from our minds and then defaces from our life!
I heard my voice saying," leave it, I should talk to it."
They left the room, and before closing the door, I heard him whispering to her," poor soul! How much she loved him! I don't remember any affray between them, or combat"
Then, I inducted all my heart into his face. I do not know how I reached him. However, my hands, with a black pen, closed his mouth and darkened his eyes. I take him off my throne, off my room's wall. Broke the wooden frame shred the picture into pieces.
I walked on my feet, opened the door, and faced with a wide victorious smile my children's astonished eyes and their open mouths.
They never understand that behind the false servility a dangerous hate that only destruction can satisfy.


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