IfA Story by imagwriteineShould we always long for more? Or should we love the way things are? Should we be rich in our souls? Or should we be rich in our lifestyles? A
cold winter breeze brushes my hair as I walk down the street, I shiver. I fold
up the collar of my coat, burying my cheek, put my hands into my coat pockets
and continue my journey home.
As
I walk down the cold, unforgiving street warm laughters rush towards me. I
search for the source of the sound, and find it right in front of me. A pair of
lovebirds, hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder. ‘Haha, yea, yea, you’re the smartest girl
in the world.’ A deep voice says. ‘Hey, don’t talk to me like that.’ A gentle, high voice replies. ‘So what you’re saying is….. I am wrong? So am I dating the DUMBEST PERSON ON EARTH???’ ‘You….’ The girl giggles, and slaps her
boyfriend in the arm. They both burst into laughter.
I
walk past them, and I can have a glimpse of their faces: Red and living despite
the merciless weather, eyes filled with so much ecstasy that they shimmer when
they look beyond themselves.
And soon, they do what all lovers do. I turn my head away and look forward. Funny how they can ignore their surroundings when they have each other.
If only I have my other half. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A cold winter breeze brushes my hair as I
walk down the street, I shiver. I fold up the collar of my coat, burying my
cheek, and put my hands around the girl beside me - Karen. Warm, are her
shoulders despite the absolutely freezing weather. Sprinkles of white begin to
fall from the dark void above.
‘It’s
snowing.’ Karen says ‘Yeah.’ ‘I
am so glad that you are here with me.’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘You
know, I don’t even care about the materialistic things. Just………’
I
lose track of what she’s saying at that point. My focus shifts to another
couple not far away: The man is in a Tuxedo and the woman in a dazzling red
dress with a black fur coat. They have just walked out of a luxurious
restaurant in front of us " one that I’ll never have the privilege to dine in.
I mean, the price for one 3 course meal there is a quarter of my monthly
salary. I’ll never get to enjoy it.
It
doesn’t take long for Karen to realize my shift of focus.
‘Gerome.’
She says I
keep on looking ‘Gerome.’
She repeats, louder this time. ‘What?’
I ask, shrugging. ‘You
above all should know that I don’t demand these things.’ ‘I
know, but it’s just… it’s just…’ ‘What?’ ‘It’s
just that… never mind.’ ‘Hey,
hey, look at me.’ She says, drawing her palm towards my cheek, and pulls my
face down so I see her in her eyes. ‘I
don’t need these things, ok? I am happy just being with you and I don’t care if
we’re poor or anything. What’s the point in being rich when we’re poor in our
souls? What’s the use of materials when we can’t even slake the hunger of our
spirits?’ she says with determination, trying her best to persuade me.
We
remain stationed, and I, silent, for a while. She sighs and says,
‘Promise
me you won’t be thinking about satisfying me with luxurious goods again.’ ‘Ok.’
I nod ‘Promise?’ ‘I
promise.’ I give her my warmest smile.
She
returns one so wide that it takes up almost half of her face. She
grabs my arm, and we start walking again.
But
Karen,
I
don’t think I am worthy of you.
Oh,
If only I were richer. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A cold winter
breeze brushes my hair as I walk down the street, I shiver. I fold up the
collar of my coat with my right hand, burying my cheek, and grasp my briefcase
firmly with the left. I pace, and it doesn’t take long for me to reach the car
park I parked my car in. I drive as fast as I can towards my house. I have a
virtual meeting to attend. Half an hour
later I am at the doorstep to my mansion: A grand, 2-storey building with a
Victorian fountain in front of the main doors, and marble pillars supporting
the roof of the entrance, reflecting the fountain, the stone pavement, the
black-tinted bushes in a brush of paleness. I open the door, immediately I am
warmed by the heating system of the house. I rush towards the study to prepare
for the conference. Passing the
dining room I can briefly see Karen seated on a table with candles set up and
cutlery laid out in a perfect, delicate manner. Her feeble and thin body turns
towards me as I come rushing past, her skin looks exceptionally pale from the
yellow flames of the candles. But I rush past
none the less, I have a meeting to attend. ‘But honey it’s Christmas.’ She shouts,
rather whimpers, with her rasp and weak from the dining room. There is a tint
of grief to her words, but I am not stopping. I have a meeting to attend ************************************************************************************* Afterwards I go
to the dining room to have dinner. On the plate that Karen has laid out rests
the dinner she cooked and a memento: Dinner is ready, heat with microwave, - Karen
I
eat it and go to bed.
Karen
hasn’t slept yet when I enter the bedroom. However, she isn’t reading on the
bed or watching television.
She
is coughing in the bathroom.
The
sound of flushing is followed by Karen walking out of the bathroom, wiping her
mouth. It is the first time in 4 months when I can observe her this close: Her
cheekbones are refined as ever, and she is pale as snow.
‘You
ok?’ I asked
‘Yeah,
yeah I’m fine.’
‘You
sure?’
I
put my arms on her shoulders, and inspect her face: Her eyes are red with tiny
traces of tears, her cheek is edged, her expression beaten and bruised, as if
she has just gone through turmoil.
She
smiles with light in her eyes, and answers ‘Yes, I’m sure.’
She
then goes to sleep. ***
I
am awakened by coughing in the middle of the night, Karen is shaking violently
beside me. I turn on the lights, and go to see what is happening with her. I
find a horrific sight: Blood is on the bed sheet near her mouth, she is
coughing up blood. I call an ambulance immediately, yet it is too late… ‘Are you the
husband of Karen White?’ a figure in white approaches me, his white fins flap as he walks towards me.
‘Yes’
I answer, standing up from my lumped state.
‘We’re
sorry.’
It’s
as if my heart has stopped beating, I know… I know what is going to happen.
‘Your wife died of untreated Pneumonia.’ I should have known. I should have. How could I not have known? Those coughs, the hollow cheeks, the tears… She is the love of my life and now I have lost her forever.
If
only I had cared less about money
If
only I was not as rich
If
only I could start again
If © 2015 imagwriteineAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on January 23, 2015 Last Updated on January 25, 2015 AuthorimagwriteineHong KongAbouta rookie (student to be precise) who likes imaginative writings and meaningful poems, reviews on my work would be nice, thx :) more..Writing
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