37: The Hope

previous…

The Hope

He wiped his tears slowly and passionately. He sobbed for a moment, a kind of sob where loneliness lingered. He folded the letter and kissed it so tenderly.

A knock on the door echoed the room. “Mr. Nicholas Thompson?” A lady in a black executive suit came in. She hugged him so tight and he too in return.

“Can you please give this to your mother?” He beamed with great hope. Staring at the woman in front of him and reading the name tag that says Summer Jordache. He can’t believe how this precious soul had grown to such a wonderful lady. “You know you had your mother’s eyes and and smile, don’t you?”

“I know. “ She smiled and gave out a wink from her hazelnut eyes. “Don’t worry Dad. I got your spirit and heart and you know it.” She hugged him again and whispered. “I hope Mom’s gonna remember all this.”

Advertisements

37: The Letter

previous…
Love Letter

Photo Credit: Everyday Lovely

* * *

Dear Natasha,

How you doing?

I’m getting older now if I may tell. I counted the years that had lapsed from us and it’s 37. If fate would not be cruel enough we could already have beautiful children. I could still remember how you used to tell me that if you were to have a son, you’ll probably call him Summer. The season where we first met, isn’t it?

 You’re so beautiful back then and I couldn’t certainly forget your sweet smile and your hazelnut eyes. God knows why selling ice cream in your neighborhood is the most fulfilling job of all. You asked me if I was new in the place and you never hesitated to help me finding my way. I was 19 back then and I was so in love with you.

August, I asked you out and it’s magical seeing you your brightest smile. I stopped selling ice creams that time since summer is over but I never stopped seeing you. We went to the park, talked about music and how many children you wanna have. November, you told me you’re leaving and you’re never coming back.

I could feel your pain and how it hurt us. I kissed you, probably our last kiss that time as far as I could remember and we make love. Morning came and you’re gone.

I still miss you Natasha. Your smile, your hands and the way we share ice cream.

I always love you and hope you’ll remember this.

 

Love,

Nick

 

continue

37: The Number

The Number

“I will miss the future I might have had with you.”

He read and slowly folded the parchment which seemed to be yellowed by age. On a separate piece he inked ‘I miss you too’ under the pile of the same phrases.

He counted them. 37.

He laughed. “I miss you for 37 years.”

So again, just like what he’d been doing for the past years, he tucked himself on the table started composing a reply. His 37th letter. His 37th reply to a letter he had from her, 37 years ago.

 

continue…

Speaking of that love…

speaking of love

“One night Pietro Crispe sang. Macondo woke up in a kind of angelic stupor that was caused by a zither that deserved more than this world and a voice that led one to believe that no other person on earth could feel such love. Pietro Crispe then saw the lights go on in every window in town except that of Amaranta. On November second, All Soul’s Day, his brother opened the store and found all the lamps lighted, all the music boxes opened, and all the clocks striking an interminable hour, and in the midst of that concert he found Pietro Crispe at the desk in the rear with his wrists cut by the razor and his hands thrusts into a basin of benzoin.”

An excerpt from One Hundred Years of Solitude by Jose Garcia Marquez

We can’t determine what lies ahead of us. But when we truly found the very person that would mean a world to us, that’s the beginning of our spontaneous daydreamings of how we will live our life, how we design it and how we end it in the favor of love.

Love, really is not a work of fairies and dusts, that will just happen once we wish upon a star. It’s an accident or unseen course that will just appear before we know it. It will just be there sitting comfortable on the sofa of the living room, not daring to knock, not asking for permission to enter. Bearing bags of pleasure, pains and tragedies. This is reality, love is a general thing that even makes my own perception of it unreliable. But that’s how I look at it, and that’s how I believe.

Our ability to care, to wonder what will happen of us and do things in the desires of our heart will wheel us to consequences usually what we haven’t transpired. In the process, it’s painful and gratifying, much as what we needed to grow and mature. But in the end, it’s a two faced embrace of whether a heartache or happiness. And what’s more terrible, it’s a tragedy that whether we like it or not, will always have its casualty.

Whispered Harmony 3: The Tears

whispered harmony 3

Continued from Whispered Harmony 2: The Piano

All was in harmony. Obviously, there was something to thank after Spring departed. She left the beautiful land with bunches of sweet blooms, lovely renaissances of the hibernated trees, the joyous laughters of the grass dancing on every field, blue skies painted with muffled fluffs of cotton ball and the sweet smiles in every creature’s heart – the very nostalgic moment where everyone breathed in celebration – or perhaps, not all.

Esther was silently praying in the very entrance of the church, holding a bouquet of lavender and golden asters. This time, she lost her senses, the understanding of her deep emotions seemed to fade. As a woman, instincts were what she needed in times like this. But she couldn’t, the absence of understanding what she felt blocked all what she wanted to do, the thought that her body was betraying her, made her realized she woke up in a different flesh, a body seemed not her.

The bell rang, the moment she prayed must never happen. On the third bell, the door opened and appeared in front of her were the great smiles of people, mostly she didn’t even know or haven’t met for years. She took her first step on the great aisle dashed by a red carpet towards the familiar altar.

“Sorry.” She whispered before she took her second step and offered a proud head high. Then the chorus started. Continue reading

Whispered Harmony 2: The Piano

Whispered Harmony: The Piano

Continued from Whispered Harmony 1: The Touch

“Why do you always have to manipulate my life?” Esther stroked heavy-heartedly to her dad after hearing the news.

“Because I’m your father!” Esther’s dad blurted out.

“Yeah! You’re just my father! And that’s it!” Now, she was losing her respect. She was deeply angry and didn’t care that she was shouting to her dad.

Surprised, her dad stared at her fiercely. “I can’t believe that I’m hearing this from you Esther!” There was a long pause, a silence that brought awkwardness to both.

“You’re going to marry him.” He continued.

“No I’m in love with someone else and he’s the one I’m going to marry!”

“For Christsake Esther! He’s an orphan! He’s useless!” He shouted back.

“But he is the one I love! And he is perfect!”

“I don’t care about love! You’re going to marry and that’s final!” He blasted angrily. Now, with that tone of a master. It wasn’t a thing to argue but an order to follow. She was terrified. She felt weak and she was muted. Tears started streaming down and all she could do was cry.

* * *

It was Monday night and Crisford was all alone inside the church. Alone in the holy realm. Playing his songs of love, hope and happiness. Singing praises to God. He loved this night. He can sing out loud the feelings he felt. Until his angel heard it and came to him at last. He heard footsteps, and he stopped playing his songs.

“Esther?” He shouted out. It wasn’t a question. It was more than a greeting of his heart. Then she appeared in the stairs, walking solemnly towards him with teary eyes, and pale. But she managed to smile. Grateful that Crisford was blind, that he didn’t have to see her in pain.

“Crisford? I need to tell you something.” Her voice was serene, but the sadness of it lingered.

“Another story of angels?” Crisford hurriedly replied like a child hungry for bedtime stories. Esther didn’t know what to tell. She thought of possible ways, of excuses that they will not be meeting anymore.

“Is there a problem?” Now he felt the sadness in Esther’s heart. He was worried. No. He was afraid.

“Crisford, don’t get mad. I’m leaving away from here.” She was fighting her tears. She didn’t want to cry.

“I’m leaving you.” She said in a soft whisper.

“Just because I’m blind?” Crisford can’t think of any possible reason but his blindness. He was acting like a kid now. He played his hands angrily to the keys. The piano was mad. And he was sad.

“No! It’s not that! You are perfect and I love you. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I’m leaving away from here and I don’t want you to look for me.” She was crying now. Great emotions mixed in her tears. And it dropped on his hands.

“Please forget about me. Everything about me!” Tears were streaming like a wild river.

“Don’t cry.” Crisford said in a calm, smooth tone. His voice was lifeless, but it’s full of understanding. He always had to understand everything.

“I don’t want you to be sad.” His voice was affected by pain. It hurt him. Hurt that only his heart could feel. But he had to do it.

Love is sacrifice, love is pure, it is not envy, and it is not selfish. He thought of these things. The things that he always thought when he was still a child. He thought of his childhood days. His father left him in the church. His mother that neglected him and didn’t even care to have him back. He thought of all the pain. The pain that once healed by Esther, and now the pain brought by Esther.

“Can I kiss you?” He twisted the long silence. It seemed that it was the only thing he must do –or can do.

Esther wiped her tears, and she kissed him. Their lips tasted each other’s love. His lips driving passionately her whole senses. Kissing bit by bit her neck, to her shoulders and down to her breasts. She started to let go of the pains and hurts –he was too.

They were both on the top of the piano, naked, toes on the keys. The piano released a playful harmony as their toes touched the piano keys, along with their rhythmic movements. It was the moment, their last moment. A soul to soul harmony. A body, heart and soul secret where the piano, the statue of the angels and God had witnessed.

To be continued….

Whispered Harmony 1: The Touch

Whispered Harmony: The TouchRomance had filled the empty room of the church as the two hearts rejoiced the recognition of their unspoken love. It was Crisford who played the keys. He would always be delighted in playing his piano. Every song that he played brought him to the world where his own mind could see. He was always happy. Soaking every finger as the key made a magical and sweet voice of his heart. It was like the piano and him, united as one.

Esther, the angel of his heart brought out the words as Crisford played. She had the voice that only a deity can possess. She had the feature of a perfect angel. Deep dark eyes like precious ebony. Red lips smooth and fragile like cherries that brought life to her angelic face. And a voice like the soothing wind of the Atlantic that brings warmth and serenity to the cold hearts. But Crisford doesn’t care about everything. It was the voice, the kindness, and purity that made him fell in love. He fell in love to Esther; to a girl he didn’t even see and didn’t even know.

“Uh, Esther?” He muttered in a slowly shaky manner. He was hesitant to form his sentiments into words.

“Yes?” Esther replied in a sweet sensible way.

“Can I t-touch your f-face?” At last! The words went out. But his voice conveyed how shy he was. He was like a toddler who found difficulty in speaking. Then Esther smiled, grabbed his hand and brushed it solemnly over her face. She was happy how Crisford touched and caressed her face. Her cheeks, her lips, her nose and her skin. He was the only man in her entire life that brought vigor to her senses. Where she felt love in just a touch.

“Even though my eyes couldn’t see, my hands and my heart know that you’re beautiful.” He was proud of his words. He knew and believed that Esther is an angel. The angel that comes to him every night and just fly back to the sky every time the bell rang at night. The angel that sings his songs and always bring aster to him. Her favorite flower –and his too. They always have something in common. Something that binds them together. They share of interests, they share of music, songs, they share of stories about angels and they share of love.

“I need to go!” This was her last words for the night. Words that told him that she had to fly back. Words that promised that she will come back and sing their songs again.

* * *

“Why do you always have to manipulate my life?” Esther stroked heavy-heartedly to her dad after hearing the news.

“Because I’m your father!” Esther’s dad blurted out.

“Yeah! You’re just my father! And that’s it!” Now, she was losing her respect. She was deeply angry and didn’t care that she was shouting to her dad.

Surprised, her dad stared at her fiercely. “I can’t believe that I’m hearing this from you Esther!” There was a long pause, a silence that brought awkwardness to both.

“You’re going to marry him.” He continued.

“No I’m in love with someone else and he’s the one I’m going to marry!”

“For Christsake Esther! He’s an orphan! He’s useless!” He shouted back.

“But he is the one I love! And he is perfect!”

“I don’t care about love! You’re going to marry and that’s final!” He blasted angrily. Now, with that tone of a master. It wasn’t a thing to argue but an order to follow. She was terrified. She felt weak and she was muted. Tears started streaming down and all she could do was cry.

To be continued…

LIVING IN SOMEONE ELSE’S SHADOW

Living in someone else's shadowBeads of sweat streamed down from her temple as she struggled to jostle her way through a host of frenzied people clamoring and singing in chorus, all in high pitch decibels to a group of males performing on stage as though they had never seen such a spectacle before. Had it not been for the relentless coaxing of her friends to seeing ‘The Canons’ – as the band was named, she would never have, under any circumstance, drag herself into such gathering. But being the impressionable friend that she was, she yielded to their request. She raked the entire podium with her eyes for semblance of a man she so have been trying hard to evade, as she was told to. And as though luck was in total defiance with the wishes, her eyes collided with his. An awkward recognition broke through their faces but she instantly withdrew hers. It seems that coming here would’ve proved to be such a bad idea afterall. And still as if she hadn’t had the worst yet, her friends had somehow noticed the same thing.

“Hey Alice, don’t tell us you know Traze Canon, the vocalist. He keeps looking at you.” Continue reading

AUGUST SKY

August Sky

If it wasn’t for the conflict of ideology, it would never be a battle of worth.

“Don’t try telling me what should be done!” Sky grumbled out after some arguments. She had been the Editor-in-chief of the Academy’s newspaper for more than a year now. And what she believed was firm.

“This is for the Academy and for the students!” a man with an athlete’s built shouted back. His innocent handsome face had been serious by the conversation. His eyes turned to her as if piercing her soul to believe him.

She was caught by his eyes. She moved away.

“If this is about principle, then prove it to me!” she shouted outside the window and found some of the students. She felt fear.

“Fine! So, you’ll have to follow my orders!” there was authority in his words and a fine blend of arrogance. If it was about a battle of principle and proving that what he believed was right, he was pretty much confident. Why not? He was Harvey August, the student welfare president. Students looked up on him. Students believed in him and they followed his orders.

“NO!” she replied decisively.

He was silent for a bit. She went to her table and picked some things –a notebook, a pen and a key. She moved towards his direction. She felt her heart thumping loudly and there were fear, worries and hate. She grabbed Harvey’s hand. It was soft and gentle, not a typical hand for a man like him. He placed the things on his hands vigorously. Continue reading