25 March 2013

Short Story number 6

Short Story number 6: Inspired by the song «High Hope» by Glen Hansard from the solo album Rhythm and Repose.

He consulted his watch for the third time while impatiently wandered back and forth along the living-room. I’ll be ready in five minutes! she said. He nodded his head and smiled, for he quickly deciphered the true meaning behind those words. He might as well surrender to the evidences, and accept the fact, that the concept of time has different meanings to men and women.
He sat dawn on the sofa and looked around. His eyes rested on the bookshelf where books, photographs and significant mementos, of their lives together, were displayed. He got up from the sofa and moved toward the bookshelf with the curious eyes and the leisurely attitude of someone, who was unexpectedly confronted with an undesirable surplus of time, and did not know what to do with it. On those occasions, one’s attention tends to cling to the most inconspicuous details, which due to that unplanned and sudden approach, are likely to be analyzed through a total new perspective. That is why, sometimes, in life, the most unsuspicious gestures might lead us to the great revelations, which are often concealed behind the illusory simplicity of the ordinary things.
  Lacking conviction, his hand hesitantly reached for his once favourite book. The first contact of his hands with its worn out cover instantly brought back distant memories of significant parts of his life. Slightly stunned by this unexpected amazement, he returned to the sofa and sat down. Handling with care the precious object, he carefully analyzed all the angles of this treasure. Feeling curious, he opened the book, touched its yellowish pages and felt the comforting smell that emanated from them. As he turned the pages, he slowly unveiled the trails he left behind a long time ago. Each note on the side of a page, each underlined paragraph were once the answers to his most profound questions or an accurate verbalization of his deepest feelings.
 Just one more minute! she said. The sound of her voice soothed the sudden swirl of emotions that assaulted him. He closed the book and stood there in silence, just realizing that all the significant feelings, he had experienced throughout his life, were still alive, though, carefully stored in a safe and recondite place somewhere inside his heart. While some of those feelings carried with them painful memories and sad moments, others, took him by the hand and walked with him through happy and sunny days.
 He recognized that he was a receptacle for the flow of experiences and feelings collected along his way through life and that all of them converged together to shape the person he was now. He was not the man he was before, but he would not be the man he was now if he were to deny or ignore his past. Ultimately, each of those moments were like the pages of his old favourite book. If one of its pages was ripped apart, its soul would be mortally wounded and its essence would not be complete anymore.
I’m ready, she said. He stood up and looked at her. The perfume she was wearing filled the air and her smile lightened up the room. It was worth the wait, he thought. He felt in awe with her presence and her eyes spoke to him in the inexplicable language of those sharing the indestructible bond of embracing each other, exactly as they were, without reservations.
It had been a long journey and in many chapters of his life he doubted if he would ever reach a happy ending. As he prepared to leave the house, holding hands with her, he thought that, the moment he had been so anxiously waiting for, might finally be just there, within the reach of his hand.

                                                            By Raquel R.


nêspera said...


Gostei da música e das palavras. :)

Porque escreves em inglês? :o


Raquel R. said...

Agradeço as tuas palavras e fico muito contente que tenhas gostado. Quanto à tua pergunta só te posso dizer que quase tudo o que escrevo vem até mim em inglês. Faz parte da minha vida. :)

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