The old door knob made of bell metal turned, making a squeaky
noise and she knew who it was. She instructed the maid to bring in the unwanted
guest to the backyard. The backyard was warm and faintly lit up. There was an old
iron stove, a pipe coming out of it at the back. The winter air was chilly and
dry, the warm and cozy fireplace gave only a little comfort and so did
everything else.
‘Mr. Morris, long time i must say’.
‘Yes Jane very long i agree’.
‘So what brings you
here today’, inquired Jane in her damp voice. A voice which seems to have lost
its fragrance long ago.
‘It’s you, i wanted to see you, i wanted to see how are you
doing’, Morris said.
‘Really... you care? What like now, after all that lost time
and lost youth?’ the words escaped from her mouth like grains of sands slipping
from a tight fist, carelessly.
‘Yes i do, i don’t know what to say; i know i haven’t been
the best husband, my work, my attitude took it all away besides i have always
loved you, always’.
Like blooms in the fall, she was a beautiful summer wrapped
in a package of innocence and purity and an undefined beauty. Now she was only
dark hair and fierce eyes. Honeyed bleedings of shattered sentiments.
‘Yes i know how dearly and fiercely you loved me my love and
therefore it took just minutes to leave me in the middle of nowhere, abandoning
me like an old building. Also I must remind you I was no less than a shame for
you or human garbage you could say’. Jane said.
‘How could you say that, i hate you for saying this...’ he
said with slight irritation and anger.
‘Believe me boy i hate you too’, she said winking at him.
‘You are so dramatic!’
‘Oh no I’m not dramatic, I’m rather you could say poetic...’
she said smiling ear to ear.
‘Can’t we stay together again? Just like old times forget
the past. You are in pain; I’m in pain
how it is good for anyone of us?’
‘Speak for yourself i don’t feel a thing these days. You know
when you first looked up at me all those years back, it was the first time i
realized what having butterflies actually feels like.. i saw an unconditional
love. And that same love of yours has
hurt me like hot iron poured upon my skin burning down the very bones. So you
don’t talk about pain coz you know nothing about it’.
‘Would you not even offer me a cup of coffee, in this biting
cold winter unless of course you want to watch me die of cold, then it would be
all right I suppose.’, he said.
‘Tea or coffee... Right or left...? As if that matters now...‘she mocked back.
‘Mr. Morris, you are so familiar with every corner of this
house, nothing has changed since you left, and I guess you can help yourself’.
Jane watched him carefully as he moved around her house, or
their house... ‘They’ were a thing of past... A past she someday though would forever last
but nothing is forever, fake promises and sugar coated lies all that she got
was an endless wait. Her dreams and
desires of a promising future, she dreamt of having kids their kids, together
they would make a world of their own. Not really perfect in fact far from
perfect, enough just enough to fill each other’s voids. He was moving here and there searching for things;
she loved him watching this way. She slowly slipped back into those old days
where he would help her in all her work. She should give him another chance? Or
not. Why was she thinking of taking back
a man who never thought even once before leaving her. He appeared before her
with a tray, two mugs of fuming hot coffee, her vision blurred and throat
ached, she felt lost.. She looked up at him once again after all this time
searching for something familiar...
‘What’s the matter, what makes you so upset?’, he inquired
worriedly.
She sat there numb, still, motionless and said ‘what should
i say, you never really knew me... I’ve have never liked coffee’
