Short Story

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story.

Submitted: November 05, 2007

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 05, 2007



She walked briskly through the park, wrapped warm, her long coat firmly buttoned up and a scarf entwined around her neck like some sort of creature. She walked with her head down, her long red hair tied back into a ponytail which meandered down her back.  Her breath came in quick gasps, the chillness of late autumn causing the exhaled air to become visible vapour, dispersing away from her face, the thin wisps evaporating before the next intake. It was almost winter, in fact there was not much to distinguish the two seasons apart, except for a smattering of a few autumn leaves remaining on the branches, causing the trees to look indecently naked with a bare covering. Of course the ground was littered with the remains of the autumn, all swept aside, on the verge of the path she was following. She briefly looked up and saw the park bench ahead, situated between two aged trees. Her eyes glanced around to see if he was anywhere to be seen, but the park was deserted on this cold Sunday morning, almost as if people understood that she wanted to meet him alone and did not want to be disturbed.

She sat down and took in her surroundings. The fine, crisp morning had left the grass with a sheen of frost which had not yet thawed. There was a slight mist, very fine, which you could feel its moisture as you breathed. A few crows hung in the trees to the side of her, occasionally crowing and flying off. A robin flitted out in front of her from the bushes opposite from where she was sitting, looking for the odd scraps or even a worm. It stopped and stared at her, tilting its head to one side, as if bemused, then flew back into the bush. In the distance you could hear the traffic, which kind of brought her back into the reality that she lived in a city and not countryside; something she missed greatly, which caused a pang of regret. She began to mull over her thoughts in her head; what should she tell him when he arrived? She really did not know – at all. She took a breath and from her depths came a deep sigh which dampened her mood even more.

She looked to her left, and she saw him walk up the path. He was wearing jeans and a dark hooded top which was pulled over his head. Customary she thought. All in all though she liked him, well, she more than liked him, she practically adored him despite everything that had gone on in his life. And he approached, steadily, something she could not avoid even though she might have wanted to; escape was not an option. A fate with destiny itself, almost like playing chess with death in the Seventh Seal (a film she watched with him only several weeks ago); a fate inescapable. Their greeting was brief. He smiled with his nervous, unsure self, eyes flittering from her to some other object, like a man who was never sure of the response his greeting would bring. 

He sat next to her, hands in his pockets, slightly breathless.

'Well you made it then, thanks' she stated.

'Yes, I always try to see you, you should know that'.


She looked at him and felt drawn in again by those eyes, that face. She drew in a deep breath, her heart fluttering as she did so, causing a warmth to spread outwards, fending off the chillness she was feeling from the cold morning. As much as she loved him, there was this barrier which could not be broken, this shield between them that caused a major obstacle to their being whole, like true lovers would be. Even though they were lovers in the ordinary sense of the word, the fact that he was married was the major thing drew them apart. Sometimes it was like taking a warm shower and halfway through someone somewhere turns off the hot water and you get a rude awakening from a blast of cold, and this happened every time she was with him. It was making her depressed.

'I want you to do one of two things for me, now, here, this morning. I want an honest true answer from you. I want you to act, to do something positive, and if our love is honest and true, if it is meant to be, if you love me as much as you say then there should not be any problem with my suggestion.'

'I know what you are going to ask' and looked at her intensely.

'Well, will you?' she almost snapped back.

He let out a sigh and turned his head away and looked down with a dejected, troubled frown. He knew it would come to this and it was wrong of him to carry on in the way they were going at present. He loved her with all his soul; she was right for him, they shared the same interests and passions, they laughed, got drunk and stoned together, they made amazing passionate love everytime they were together in her flat – all night long on some occasions, but the one thing she wanted he could not give – his life. He knew they were meant to be together – for Christ sake they BELONGED…and in an earlier year, in another time, maybe in a previous life or incarnation they would have been together, undoubtedly.  But nothing was ever easy in his life, the path his life had taken was a path strewn with thorns and he was mentally tormented from all the trouble he had endured throughout his years. But that had to change.

He looked up and into her heavily mascara coated eyes. He smiled, almost grinning, and said:

'I will'.

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