The Wait. 

 

Im not scared of the dark, I just feel sad that another day is lost

 

The air is frozen lace on my skin, delicate and cold, like winter waves on sallow sand. The sky is washed with grey, watery light illuminating thin patches to brilliance. In some moments I’m watching my boots over the frozen sidewalk, perfect concrete slabs, flat and square, and in others transfixed to the interplay of cloud and sun above. For some reason my mind conjures a stone Mosaic made beautiful by the shards of mirror and I want to keep my eyes heaven bound while my imagination makes them one thing. Only the slipping of my feet brings my attention earthward once more, the need to stay upright pulling my mind into the present. 

I stopped in front of the church. It had become a ritual, to pray. It was around 10:30, Sunday morning, as I returned back home. Even on the coldest days of winter the sun was bright in the sky, bringing warmth to my heart. My mind was occupied with the household chores.

Soon, after getting over with my work, I needed a strong coffee. Sitting in my balcony, having my own little time.

The world was a beautiful place, once in my imagination. Where the sun sat half exposed at the horizon, showing off it’s tinted citrus hues on the calm surface of the underworld, where I could stand with the water curling around my toes, as I looked out to the silhouettes of trees on the neighbouring island, where I could watch the golden batter – coloured sun slide dramatically behind the skyline, leaving the bold white moon to shine silver beams on the rippling facade. Sky furrowed with wispy bands of cloud, softy glowing from the palest amber-pink to deepest flaming red. 

We used to have coffee together, everyday in the morning with cheese toast. We used to fight over who gets to have the remote for the night, as he never let’s me watch Romedy Now over his football match. It was a ritual for us to go on long evening walks on every Sunday. We always used to have dinner on the bed. Cuddling up with him at night used to be the best part. But then, he left.

It’s been seven years now, and I wait for him to come back. I wait for him to return to me. It’s been seven years without him now.  

Looking down, I fiddle with my wedding ring as I watch over towards the sky, drowning in my thoughts.

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31 thoughts on “The Wait. 

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  1. It was indeed a dainty verbal sketch of nature!! The end was tragic still beautifully weaved!!💙💙
    Follow me up I’ll love to have your reviews..I’m new here, it would be definitely beneficial to me:)

    Liked by 2 people

  2. You stayed without him for 7 years. You’re strong. I’ve seen people break in days even in minutes. But you know there is one thing life goes on. Life stays cold and dark. But life can be amazing and beautiful as well. The way you describe each and every aspect goes deep inside me and reminds of someone. You’re strong. Your vibes are imaginary. 🙈

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Fiction story though. I’m not strong actually, not that much. Yes, life goes on. That’s something which is hard to get when you’re stuck in a bad time. Thank you so very much. 🙈❤

      Like

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