The dream.

He sat there and smiled at her. She blushed, and flushed red. He said, “Marié, You are so beautiful”. She replied, “Yes, yes, rub it in”, saying thus she made a face at him. At this, both of them burst in fits of laughter. A few eyebrows were raised in the otherwise silent café. They became quiet soon, but the giggles didn’t cease.

Marié and Adrian had been together for nearly one year now. They were one lively couple, always having fun and hanging out in cafes and parks. The townsfolk only knew them too well. The old folks reminisced their young days, the teenagers anticipated their future love lives watching these two. It was a regular sight to see them hand in hand walking down the street, playfully lost in their own world. But good things only last for a short time. This was no different.

It was almost the end of summer. The bright afternoon was almost at an end. Adrian was still in his room. Suddenly the mail arrived. Apart from the regular bills there was another letter. Somehow it caused him quiet distress when he read it. He simply read and re read it. Finally he threw the letter into the fireplace and went to call Marié. He picked up her phone and dialled the number, just as it began to ring on the other side, something rang in his mind and he slammed the phone down. And he began to pace the room. For almost an hour he kept pacing the room restlessly.

The dusk soon descended upon his surroundings. He had a date that night with Marié. Tired, he was but he managed to get dressed up and reach at the park in time. Mariéwas sitting there, as usual before time. After a few greetings they moved out. Walking side by side on the pavement, they were quiet, reveling in each other’s presence. She moved close to him and rested her head on his shoulder and hung from his arm. He looked at her and smiled, and continued to walk on. Suddenly he said, Marié, I might have to leave soon”.

Marié stopped walking. And then slowly spoke to him, “oh...” and then added, “So you got a new job.”

He replied, “Yeah, kind of.”

“So, when you will leave?”

“Soon enough, I guess”

“Hmm… when will you come back?”

“Erm….I am not sure, actually”

“I see”, she added thoughtfully, “Doesn’t matter, I will wait for you for ever and ever”. Smiling she went up to him and hugged him tight.

In a worried voice, he replied, “Yeah, I know you will…I love you, Marié.”

She looked at him in a puzzled manner, “You don’t seem too happy about it?”

He started, “What? Not happy about what?”

She playfully replied, “Maybe your job, maybe about me”, she winked.

“Why you little...” saying this he tried to grab her, but she was too quick and she ran off along the pavement with him huffing and puffing behind him. Thus the evening moved on again. That night they had a great time. They had more fun they ever had had on any other date. The went to the movie, played around with the popcorn. Then in the restaurant they ordered all sorts of unknown foreign dishes and had fun guessing what stuff were they eating. Finally, exhausted they returned to the park, lying down on the wet grass, they stared into the star studded night. She asked him, “What sort of job, are you going to do?”

Taken aback, he replied slowly, “Nothing very satisfactory”.

“Oh, ok”.

After a few moments again, he asked, "Marié, what would you do, if I got married there with someone else?”

She didn’t bat an eyelid, “I’d still wait for you”, she said to the sky.

He could not reply. He felt hit by a feeling somewhere deep inside, titling her head to him, she said “Adrian, I love you, that’s all I want.”

He moved closer and kissed her deeply. The sky seemed to turn blue in front of her eyes. She closed her eyes and kissed him back. The kiss seemed to last for hours, the night seemed to last forever.

It was almost midnight, when they finally returned. He dropped her at her home, and returned to him rooms, with a heavy feeling like a load of lead in his stomach. Somehow, he did not feel well. He fell into a troubled sleep immediately.

* * *

He woke up to a cloudy morning. Things were weighing upon his head. He went to wash himself; he saw a horrified face in the mirror. He couldn’t believe he looked so tensed. He could not go in front of Marié with such a face. He just could not. Maybe his departure was causing him more problems than he imagined. Suddenly, he smiled at the mirror looking like a fool. After getting dressed, he went to the banks and offices where he had to finish some minor tasks. He closed his bank account, said goodbye to his friends and to his acquaintances. He had to leave soon. Still then, he could not bring himself to say bye to Marié. Somehow, he felt an empty feeling in his chest whenever he thought about it.

In the end, he gave up and called Marié‘s best friend over. Her name was Jane. She was Mairé‘s bosom friend and she knew all about Adrian and Mariétoo. She came over in the evening to Adrian’s room. After the initial greetings, they settled down.

She asked,” Is there a problem, Adrian?”

He looked troubled, he was playing with a piece of paper in his hands, “No, nothing really”

She was suspicious, something was wrong, “I think you are hiding something”

He looked at her with red eyes, “No, it’s just that I can’t say goodbye to Marié

He expression softened, “oh, is that all”, she came closer and sat beside him. She put a friendly hand over his shoulders.

Patting him on his back lightly, she said spoke, “Don’t worry Adrian, she wont mind. She told me all about it. I just hope you finish your job soon and come back soon. She loves you a lot, she will wait for you.”

He looked at her again with bloodshot eyes, a pained expression on his face, spoke almost inaudibly, “I know…she loves me too much”, loudly he said, “I love her too. I love her a lot, that’s why I can’t ...” his voice broke off.

She hugged him closely. She could feel warm tears on her chest. He kept repeating, under his breath, “I love Marié , I love Marié ...I love...”

Suddenly, he overthrew Jane. She too was taken aback by this sudden movement, and fell on her back on the hard floor. He pinned her down with his hands and feet, and with an insane expression on his face began to move closer to Jane’s neck.

Jane cried out “Adrian, what are you doing?” She looked around frantically for some help, she pleaded again, “Adrian, please…no...” But he was overtaken by the devil it seemed, he kissed her on the neck and made to move lower, she gave an earsplitting scream, he slapped her tight and she fell silent. But some passersby had heard the sound of her scram and came rushing up to his room. They stormed his door open.

Finding Adrian in such a state, they tried to beat him up. But he proved too quick for them and ran out of his room, leaving behind a sobbing Jane and a couple of stunned strangers.

Outside, he kept running and running until he reached the park where his legs gave way and his fell head first into the grass and fell unconscious. When he opened his eyes again, it was morning the bright sunlight stung his eyes. His picked himself up and moved on to the nearest public fountain and washed his face. Sitting down on the bench, he recollected last night’s events. A smile tried to creep up the corners of his mouth. He stood up with a new energy, and rummaged in his pockets for some change.

With the change held tightly in is fist he moved to the nearest telephone booth and dialled Marié’s number carefully. The phone rang thrice, before someone picked up.

“Hello, whose there”, said a tired voice. It seemed like the person had been crying for hours.

“Marié, it’s me”

Silence.

“Marié, it’s me Adrian. Are you there?”

“No”

“Marié, are you alright?”

“No”

“Marié, I am sorry. Please listen...”

“No”

“Marié, it’s not what you…”

“No” she cut him off

She slammed the phone down.

He could hear the mechanical beep in the headpiece of the phone, he spoke into it,

“I love you, Marié…I love you”

Hanging up the phone, he walked outside. A wide smile spread across his face, although tears continued to trickle down his cheeks…

He went to the bus stand, and took the first bus out of town. Sitting beside the window, the wind ruffling his hair, he reminisced the beautiful moments he had with Marié. Soon the wind lulled him to sleep.

* * *

Epilogue

Two years later, Marié got married to a wealthy business who was well known to her parents. She had almost forgotten Adrian by now. One day, rummaging in the old cabinets she came across newspapers mentioning, reporting the crime of Adrian two years back. She looked at it with disgust. Then threw it into the dustbin, then she found under the pile another old fading newspaper, dated one month later than the previous one.

It had a heading that proclaimed, “Lucky Marié”

Interested she sat down to read it.

“This comes across as not only a bizarre but also a very touching incident of the modern times. Recently, a seemingly love struck fellow had come to this town. No one knew his name; he had neither friends nor relatives in this town. But he was a beautiful singer. He sang lovely songs on the side streets, all of them very touching and most of them praising some unknown lady called Marié. Seems like this person had been hit hard by his lady love Marié. He lived on the offerings of the onlookers. Sadly, however he passed away yesterday. Sources say, he was suffering from blood cancer and was in the last stage of the disease. However all we have to say is that, whoever Marié was, she was one lucky lady to have such a lover.”

Below the report was a photograph of hers, faded and almost five years old, reportedly it was taken from his wallet.

An unloved short story.

Once upon a time there was a man. Well, he was a man or a ghost or just a wisp of smoke. No one knew for sure. He lived all by himself in this very big castle. No one lived with him, except that a servant lady came sometimes to check if he was alive or dead. ...

Sometimes, he just slept slept for whole weeks ,doing nothing as if he had no life in him. Some said he had some great treasure whcih he was guarding. Some thought he was just a grouch. Very few though though he was a man with a broken heart .No one was sure.

A young girl from the nearby village came to play near the caste grounds with her pets. She was curious and brave. She had heard talks of he mysterious man of the castle. Either she was brave or dumb but she decided to explore the castle. She walked into the castle, looking at grimy walls broken windows, dusty fireplaces ...


Then she saw flights of staircase. Marble, shining glowing although not in use. She went up the stairs to a fleet of bed rooms. None of the doors were locked .One by one she checked each room. One was a woman's room, neat curtains beautiful carpets and a portrait of her hung on the wall. She was not beautiful in a layman's terms, but yes caught ones imagination .

The young girl was mesmerised by the grandeur. She moved to the next room. It seemed more like a study. Books books books. Books on the floor, books on the oakwood table. Papers strewn all over with writings on them. She did not know how to read But she could make out the beauiful handwriting of the author. She fell in love with the letters. She picked up all the papers lying all over the room and arranged them neatly.

Clutching them tightly to her chest, she went ino the next room here she found the room musty and dirty. Filthy and unclean. She was repulsed by it. As she was about to move out she saw something.


She saw someone rather. On the grand bed. She moved closer. There was a young man sleeping. Sleeping or dead she could not make out. She was curious. Placing the papers on the bedside table, she moved closer she called lightly.

Nothing

She called a little louder.

Still nothing. She saw some papers beside him they had the same hadnwriting as her set of papers. She guessed this young man must be the writer but was he dead. She did not know. She thought of shaking him. But she was afriad if he would be angry for tresspassing on his property

Thus she decided to leave. She picked up the papers and began to move towards to the open door. She looked at the beautiful writings again and at the young writer and back at the papers she considered something.

With swift movement she climbed on to the bed kissed him gently on the lips and then left the castle.



le fin

The city was cold no more, yet i was....

The air seemed musty. I put out my tongue and tried to taste it. Soot. Sweat. Dust. Blood. I put my tongue back into my mouth. I did not want to lose my sense of taste so soon. The road looked forsaken yet a few souls roamed aimlessly on it. Tramps mostly. A few shoe boys scurried about in the darkness. The trees were dead. No wonder, what life could survive in this unbearable cold?

Heh…yes you can say how did we people survive. But then again, are we alive? Technically we are breathing and eating and all, but we just exist. Me, the shoe boys the tramps. All of us just leading a useless life, just living on and on without any purpose and fulfillment any darn ambition. The trees unlike us were alive, they felt pain, the cold. But for now, they were dead....

I was a mere traveller who had traversed a lot of lands, until I reached this place. This place did not catch my imagination or anything. Just that here I felt at home in this place. No one cared for anyone else. Everyone just "lived". I liked this way of "life" and decided to adopt it. I had come to this city Nebourne around five years ago. Without any money or even a name, I started my "life" in this cold city among the stone hearts. My heart had started to grow cold too. And I was satisfied. Somehow I was content. Yet I was afraid it was, this was not going to last. The days passed on. The summers came and went. Sometimes it was spring outside, at other times autumn. Inside me, however I could feel the winter raging. How many years had passed I don't remember but now I feel the age catching up with me. I could no longer climb up any tree that caught my eyes with the same alacrity and excitement that could put a monkey to shame. Yet, adulthood did have its charms and gains.

Moving out of Mistern Avenue, I turned to my left and entered a lane, which housed my humble lodgings and neighboured the only park in this city. The park was even more silent than the cemetery. To take note the cemeteries of this city were never silent. Always there was someone dying and people burying them in the five odd cemeteries spread all over the place. The dead of this city could never rest in peace with the people moving in and out of the place without break. And the living of this city could hardly be at peace until they died. It seemed funny at times. I wondered sometimes why were the people were dying so often in this town. My guess would be that most folks died of a cold heart or of the cold treatment they received in this city. I was hoping for a similar end too….

It was the starting of autumn. Leaves were falling all around so were the hearts. Sometimes at night when it was too cold and damp for me to sleep, I sit at the window all night long looking at the silent moonlit paths. The ones leading to a park always had a pair of lovebirds. Either on top of the dead trees or walking down the road. Most of my idle nights were spent just observing them from a distance. I felt a certain kind of nostalgia when I happened to see them holding hands or kissing. Usually I dismissed those feelings without much thought or concern. Over the years since I lived in this darn city, the roads seemed to have become deserted.

Now only the maple leaves adorn the road and the virgin snow just waits in vain to be tread upon. But the trees in the park wilt in wait of loving couples to caress their roughened hides and the squirrels have long lost hope of being the symbol of love for the lovebirds that frequented the park. Well not anymore….

Sometimes I wondered was it because of me. Did I bring my curse upon this city as well, has my decision to make this place my home changed the fate of this place. Sometimes I felt a little guilty about it, but a little while later I think again while looking upon the tramps, perhaps this place was cursed since always. Who knows, who cares…

The night darkened, the moon tried to hide behind the trees. It wasn’t really needed, for my eyes were closing already, sleep overtaking me. The last sound I could hear was that of the wall clock, ticking away into oblivion. The room darkened from my view and before I knew I was fast asleep.

I woke up with a start, the sunlight was slicing open my chaffed skin. I pulled the blinds down. Sunlight, this time of the year. Maybe I was dreaming. I tried to pinch myself. Before I could do that, I saw something that made me forget what I was going to do. I saw someone crying. No, it was not odd in this town. Someone or the other was always crying in this godforsaken place. But this person didn’t seem to belong to this place. I was concerned.

Well I was.

I rushed down the stairs, to the front door of my small lodging. I threw open the door. Yes, it was someone foreign to the ways of this place. Yet, why was she crying on the street? The people here don’t care for others. As for me I did not belong to this place. Maybe that was why I was concerned to a fellow foreigner. I walked up to the poor creature. Her clothes were almost in rags. She had travelled far it seemed.

“Why are you crying madam?”

Two blue eyes looked up from a ghostly white face, searching for the source of the words she heard. She found me. Her eyes were puffy from all the crying she had been doing. Instantly I felt a sense of infinite care towards her. Poor creature. Still she was silent. Maybe she was surprised to speak anything. I asked again.

Is something wrong? Are you not from this place?

Finally she seemed to have heard me, as if waking up from a distant sleep she said.

Ah…Kind sir. I am so sorry to behave in this unwomanly manner sobbing on the street. Forgive me but I have nothing else to do…

Saying so she burst into another fit of sobs. I tried to console her but I stopped myself just before I was about to touch her. It was good that I did.She shot a suspicious look at me and resumed her sobbing again

I was in a fix…

Madam, don’t you have an address in this godforsaken town or at least a name?

She spoke in between sobs

I have no place to go to in this town, I had an uncle’s place but I don’t know where it is. My name is June. And kind sir, what is yours?

My name is Rolan, and I too am not a local of this place. Maybe I could help you.

You can help me, do you think so?

Her face brightened up a little bit. Before she could say anything else

But first you must get some proper clothes and some food. It seems you are famished. She stood up rather obediently. She trusted someone like me. I was surprised. But right now I had other things on my head. I led her up to my dinghy room. It was not very well furnished but was much better than the cold streets outside. I gave her an old cloak to wear, and some biltong and cheese to eat. She ate silently, yet her eyes never left me. She was afraid of me. I could sense it. Yet, somehow she trusted me. I could not understand.

Kind sir…

I interrupted,

Call me Rolan please…

She smiled faintly and said

So Ro-o-lan, do you think you can help my find my uncles place in this city?

Ah...maybe I am not a local of this place but I have been living in this small town for the last couple of years. Maybe if you have an address I could look it up for you.

An address, oh no…

Her face visibly fell. I was quick to react. Somehow I could not bear to see the pained look on her face even for a second. What was happening? Not now, I had other things on my mind now.

No problem if you don’t have an address, if you could at least name him, maybe I could look him up amongst the locals.

His name let me think. Yes yes, his name was Alexander Drumon if I remember correctly. But it’s been so many years, if he might have changed his name, I don’t know.

Changed his name?

I asked in mild surprise.

Well, when he left our country he said he wanted a new life far away from all the confusion at home. So perhaps he might have also changed his name.

I did not reply, yet I was already thinking. At this rate it might be a long time by the time I could even get to find her uncle. That is if he was alive. This city was not known for it’s healthy weather either. It was very much possible he was already dead. In any case, I was not going to let her know any of this. If required I will care for her for as long she doesn’t find her uncle or someone else to care for her.

Well miss June, take some rest, you most probably need it. It seems you have travelled far enough. I shall be out to get some supplies and I will try to look for your uncle. Please rest here peacefully. No one will disturb you.

Saying so, I went out closing the door behind me. I set out into the sunny outsides again. The morning seemed to warm me up. I could feel pins and needles all over me that was really very odd. For many days I hadn’t seen the bright sun and for many years I had not felt that warm either. Was it me or something happening to this place? As I moved away from my tiny lodging I glanced back once to make sure that I was still in the same city. As I looked back at the place I called home for the last couple of years, and found it hard to believe that a lady was sleeping in it peacefully. I looked onwards again and began to move on. Was afraid, that might be a dream and it might break it I stopped for to long to stand and stare.

Eventually I reached the market place, if it could be called that. Nothing about it resembled a market except that people were buying stuff they needed to live and people were selling those to them. Except that nothing, the place was dead, no bargaining, no haggling no comparing. Everyone quietly went about his or her business of buying and selling. Until yesterday all this seemed so normal to me, pleased me even. The quiet and the calm of the marketplace overwhelmed me today. I felt as if I had walked in a city of zombies. What was happening? I was unable to understand.

I went over to the baker’s place

Sir, I’d like two loaves of the coarse bread and…a few scones.

I added after an afterthought. He handed me my bag and I paid him with whatever little money I had. Still had some cash left on my. I decided to splurge it on my guest. I chuckled inside as I thought about the notion of “entertaining” my guest. Heh…

I looked around for something interesting yet cheap. I could find nothing as such, but I did not give my hunt as easily. I moved to the deeper parts of the market in search of my gift. Something glinted in a shop window.

A brooch. No, too costly. I looked around some more. The streets were getting dirtier and the drains looked as if they were in dire need of cleaning. Almost overflowing with filth. I just puckered my nose and walked on. After a few more shops I saw a florist selling his wares. A florist in this town. From where did he get the flowers in this cold? I looked around. I had forgotten it wasn’t cold today. Not anymore. I looked at the flowers again. It had been long since I had seen something as beautiful in this town. Hadn’t seen a living flower for so any days, hadn’t smelled one. I look at them again and thought of the beautiful thing sleeping back in my room. Yes, one of these would be perfect for her. I looked around the pretty bunches, all looked beautiful but somehow did not fit in. Until at last…

Sir, how much for that one, the one over there?

This one sir, the black rose you ask for?

His old wrinkled face doubled up in concentration as he tried to gauge my query with utmost concentration. He considered the lone black rose, then me and then the rose again. Finally, his face returned to his old jolly self and he picked the rose carefully from the bunch. He handed it over to me and said

Kind sir, you be blessed for having chosen my only black rose. I never intended to sell it anyways. They people in the hills, where these wild things grow abound, say that they bring bad luck. I shall not sell this one to you. You may take this as a gift.

Smilingly he handed me the rose and I took it felling a mixture of nostalgia and superstition. Bad luck. As if my luck could be any worse than this. This thing was beautiful and would look good in the hands of the maiden who steeped up at my doorstep this morning.

Carrying the loaves in one hand, the rose in the other and my pockets jingling with the change I saved, I made my way home. The transistor at the corner shop blared out the latest news of wars, famines and the like. I could hardly care about them. All my mind was focussed on was to get the rose to the lady who had brought warmth to this cold city and feelings into unfeeling me. As I crossed the few blocks of Mistern Avenue, I could hear a merry tune being played on the piano by some great musician maybe. The tune was sweet, soothing and was the kind which stuck to your mind and your breath and you could not help humming it under your breath unconsciously. Neither could I help it.

I turned into the lane that overlooked the park I had so many times described as the most desolate spot that one could see in this town. I glanced up once to make sure I was in the right lane.

……………

……….

I stopped dead in my tracks. A hansom almost ran me over and a cyclist ran into me. Swearing and cursing, me both left me expecting me to die the next time I halted. The park was overflowing with flowers and trees, which were alive. Even more than that what made me skip a beat was the fact that there were about six or seven couples walking around hand in hand. Smiling laughing, kissing. I looked around in disbelief. Had I come to some other town? I checked my bearing. The name of the lane was the same, yet this seemingly impossible scene dazed me. Somehow this town was going out of control I could feel it in my veins. Something was terribly wrong with this place. Everything looked happy and cheerful.

Something was definitely wrong. Or was it…

Having not seen the colours of life in so much time it seemed as if I had lost all sense of reason. Had I really become that cold? Had this town changed me so much that I could differentiate between what was right and wrong? Was I regretting this change in me? Wasn’t it what I had always wished for, asked for.

All sorts of questions began swimming in my head. I was drowning in an ocean of confusion. I saw only one raft that could save me. The tune. Yes, the tune. It was the only ting that soothed me at the moment. Humming it even more vigorously than earlier, I briskly made my way back home. Afraid even to look up once more lest any more joyful sights gave me a heart attack.

In a fit of energy I reached my home and entered my lodging and locked the door behind me. I had completely forgotten about my guest. Unaware of her presence I was pacing up and down the tiny room trying to look for answers within me. Never had I failed to get any answers from myself. This was the first such case. Was I losing my reason and ability to think? I looked out of the window.

The air was clean, no mist. I wished it to snow again. I wished the city were cold again.

Seeing me pacing uneasily up and down, my guest had woken up and was now looking pensively at me. I ha not yet noticed her being awake. It was only when she spoke

Kind sir, err…Ro-o-lan are you all right? Is something amiss?

I paused for a second. And then I halted permanently. Her pallid face seemed to have calmed me down. Somehow I no longer needed no more answer. At least for the moment I was at peace.

No, nothing is wrong. Why do you ask, miss?

I replied unconvincingly. To support my reply I added

Look outside, isn’t it a beautiful day outside? Look the sun is out and the birds are alive. It is like this after a long time. Maybe your arrival has been auspicious for this city. Heh…

I added with a tiny smile. It seemed to cheer her up. I was overjoyed to see a hint of smile on her pallid face. Now I remembered the rose I had brought for her and added with a larger smile.

Miss, I have something for you. Will you accept it? A small token from me.

She looked perplexed for a second. And then nodded in agreement. Yet it seemed she was in two minds about me. I hardly cared. I put my hands into my waistcoat pocket and took out the black rose. I presented it to her. Her eyes widened on seeing it. And then her mouth formed a sweet smile and she took it from my hands. She smiled again.

Thanks. Thanks a lot. It is beautiful.

Saying so she offered her left hand to me. I took it and kissed it gently. Maybe she was surprised. She gave a little squeal of pain. I was taken aback. Did I hurt her? I checked her and saw that she had held the rose a little too tightly and one of he thorns had pricked her dainty fingers.

Ironically, I had hurt her. Darn. I cursed my self.

Immediately I seized her other arm as well and sucked on the cut to cease the flow of her precious blood. Her cries had abruptly come to a halt but I was too busy to notice. I was busy tending to her wound. I cleaned it up with some water and bandaged it with the silk handkerchief I had in my pocket.

She looked at her finger in mild surprise and then at me with slight discomfort. Yet I could in her eyes a look of satisfaction or affection. I could not make out yet. I did not care as long she was in no pain and was happy. She only said

It was just a tiny thorn wound.

I blushed. I know I had overdone my host’s part but then again she was much more than just my guest now. I tried to hide my expression from her, I turned away and began to prepare for supper. I unpacked the bread and the scones I had purchased. Though there was not much choice, I still asked just for formality

Miss what would you like to have for supper?

I could almost swear I heard her giggle a little but she answered in her normal tone.

Anything would do. I am still feeling so guilty at being an unwanted guest in your home.

I dismissed her feeling guilty for such silly reasons. And went back to making some tea. Somehow unconsciously I had begun humming the tune again. Maybe I was too happy today. For some odd reason I felt awkward because of it. Suddenly…

Ro-o lan where did you know that tune? It is so so beautiful. It seems so very familiar to me. As if I head it somewhere too.

Well, I heard it while I was coming back. Outside a gentleman’s manor. Someone was playing it on a piano I suppose. It seems familiar to you??

I was somewhat confused by what she meant by that.

Well, I kind of remember the tune from my childhood maybe. I am not sure though. Maybe my dad or my uncle played it on the piano sometimes.

Oh!

Hmm… I was set into thinking now. Maybe the house outside which I heard this tune was her uncle’s house. But it was too early to make any assumptions. I decided on making enquiries the next day. But for now I did not intend to tell her anything. Le her be at peace for the night at least. I smiled at her again.

Supper is ready. If you would like to dine now or later on miss…

She cut me midway and said

Please call me June.

I raised an eyebrow and smiled once more. I was smiling a bit too much. It felt odd yet the feeling was very alluring. I couldn’t help smile once more. And I proceeded to lay out our meager supper for the day. Whatever little I had I served with élan and she ate quietly thanking me all the while for my kindness. I was almost too embarrassed at being thanked so much. When actually I gained a sense of personal satisfaction from tending to her. After that I tucked her in bed and moved outside again lying that I had some unfinished business to take care of. I went outside into the cool evening, back on to the streets. Traversing from one lamppost to another, counting the shadows I cast on the white roads. I was amused to see as the shadows grew in length and then faded out into oblivion as I approached the next lamppost. It was an unending game but I had to end it when I reached Minstrel Avenue. I took a right turn and began looking for the house where I had heard the tune earlier that day. It was kind of difficult to locate it in the darn. I had not played enough attention to the house in the morning. Yet I kept looking for signs here and there.

After about half an hour of looking for it, I gave up and turned back homeward. I had almost left Mistern Avenue when suddenly I could hear a piano tinkling merrily in the night. I looked around for the source of the merry music. Finally I was able to locate it. I looked up the nameplate. It said Ramen Kaiser. Never heard of it before. Yet, I had to make sure if this was or was not of any relevance to my young guest. But that I could do tomorrow. If she had to leave tomorrow then at least for tonight I could spend looking at her beautiful face. I made my way back to my worn out lodgings, where the angel must be sleeping.

As I approached the door I looked up to the window and was surprised to see her sitting at the same spot where I used to sit and observing the night, the moon in her calm mood. I was hypnotised to see her somewhat lost in thoughts. I decided not to break her reverie. I walked across the road and took a seat on the pavement. It was cold but watching her smiling face peering out of the window made me feel warm inside.

The night deepened. The roads became quiet, the traffic slowed down to a trickle. A few stray dogs came up sniffing and left me to my state dismissing me perhaps as just another tramp. I sat there staring at the pretty pallid face of my guest. For sometime she just stared at the moon, with disbelieving eyes. After that she stared at the road, looking somewhat troubled. And then she saw me, but most probably she did not recognize me. Soon, her gaze shifted somewhere else. Somewhere else, far away. May she was dreaming about something. But it seemed it was me who was lost, not her.

Soon she fell asleep at the window just as I used to. And I just sat there staring at the innocence that she was. Soon it was morning. Rather too soon for me. As the first rays of the sun touched her face, she stirred uneasily. I smiled and started to make my way back to my room.

The room was unlocked and I entered silently. She was still at the window, fast asleep. I was in two minds whether to wake her up or not. Finally I decided to wake her up. I walked up to her and gently touched her shoulder

Miss June, are you awake?

I shook her slightly and asked again.

Miss are you…

Her head feel limply into my hands. Her eyes closed. I missed a beat. What had happened to her? I was horrified. I felt her pulse. I could find it anywhere. My hands were trembling. I lifted her slight frame onto the bed.

What was I to do? Oh God, someone help me.

I touched her pretty pale face. It was cold. I touched her lips and they seemed to numb my fingers. I drew back my fingers in horror. I felt the coldness of her skin. I felt coldness after so many years. Something told me, it was not right. Was I warm or was she cold?

I looked outside and suddenly, the morning mist that has clouded my mind seemed to clear. I felt my face, I was sweating, and then I felt my heart it was beating. I felt her face it was cold. I felt her chest it was silent.

I closed my eyes.

I felt pain arise in a hot lump in me. My throat began to choke. The world began to swim all around me. The world blurred and I could not remember anything more. When I regained my senses again, it was dark outside. It was cold inside my room, colder inside me.

She still lay listless in my arms. Though she was the one lifeless, I felt lifeless. I realized what had happened to her, and this revelation shocked me more than her sudden departure. This city was cursed with eternal frost and she tried to fight it off with her warmth. And she paid for it, with her life. I hated this city more than anything else now. She gave it her warmth and it sucked out her warmth and her life.

And I thought, these things happened in stories and tales…

I thought…

That afternoon, I pawned my watch, the only thing worth more than me on me. I got a few crowns for it. I decided to give her truly noble self the last respects. And the least I could do was not to bury her anywhere within this cursed city’s limits. The sun washed the city with a sad crimson colour as it went down. I started out in the hired cart, with her in the back. I rode for about a couple of hours until I was well outside the city’s limits. I found a suitable spot, one surrounded by a couple of trees, those looked dead since time unknown. They snow began to fall again. Maybe the cold had returned. It did not trouble me. I got to work. I began to dig a shallow grave. A couple of hours later, I was done.

I went back to the carriage and saw her lying there peacefully. Cold as ever. I saw something peeking out of her pocket. It was something dark, black. It was the black rose I had given her. I looked at it and at her again. Suddenly I realized, I was in love. Love was troublesome. It was true, it saw no boundaries, and I was in love with a dead girl. I lifted her gently off the carriage and placed her slowly in the makeshift coffin I had prepared for her. The rose still on her. As I looked one last time I could not help stealing one kiss.

The mist returned, as I helped her to her final bed. I felt something beating inside me. For once I was not surprised to find my heat beating. It was the last time it will ever beat. I made my way back to the city in silence. Though my thoughts were deafening from inside.

It was very late when I finally reached the outskirts of the cursed city. It felt warm in the city streets. The warmth of my love. It was her warmth the city had sucked out. I hated this city more than anything else. I could no longer breathe in this place. I decided to move on again. In search of some other place, to tend to my wounds. But there was one thing that was still left to be done.

The morning sun burned my face as I woke up with a start wishing it all to be an ugly nightmare. But it wasn’t. I saw the bloom outside and was convinced it was no dream. I prepared to leave this city for good. But before that, I made my way to Minstrel Avenue again. Standing before the mansion’s huge gates I wondered what would I say if I were allowed inside. That miss June was no more. What if they never knew a June? What if it wasn’t her uncle’s place? After all, it was just another wild theory of mine with nothing to prove it. Yet, before my feet gave up on me, I rang for someone. The butler came running out. He was somewhat perplexed to see someone like me at their gates. I asked…

Is Mr. Kaiser in?

The butler gave me a look of pure disgust and spoke

And what business may you have with our master?

It concerns your master, kindly ask him if he has known any Alexander Drumon at any point of time or any miss June who may be his niece??

The butler raised his eyebrows, somewhat perplexed at this strange request but nonetheless he made his way back inside. I was left standing there for some time. After about half an hour, he came back out again. I was fuming with impatience. The butler gave me smile and said

Yes, my master welcomes you inside. Pray tell what is your name sir?

I was surprised, but answered

My name is Rolan.

As I went inside the enormous halls seized my attention, the grandeur was astounding. I had however no wish for any such luxuries. I looked around coldly, suddenly something caught my eye. A portrait on the wall. Of miss June…

I walked slowly towards it, the same hands, the same paleness glowed on her face. I was dumbstruck. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulders. I whipped around to find an old man, in his sixties on a walking stick smiling at me.

Good sir, what brings you here? It seems you know more about me than most of the town. Alexander, have not heard the name in so many years. I had already forgotten it. Thanks for reminding me. Please do come, let me offer you some drink.

He led me to the bar in the corner of the room. We both sat there. My eyes flew back to the painting on the wall. It looked recent. I mouthed my surprise to him

Sir, may I ask you whose painting is it on the wall?

He squinted through his gold-rimmed spectacles on the wall and smiled slightly. He replied

Oh that is a painting of my niece, June. My butler mentioned you mentioned her name. I must say I am also mildly surprised to know how could you know of her. She remains indoors all the time.

I was too shocked to speak, only air came out of my mouth. Finally I found my voice.

Miss June, does she live with you? I mean has she always been with you?

The old gentleman looked at me with surprised eyes and said

Yes, of course. When I came to this country she came along with me. We have lived here together ever since.

I closed my eyes, is this another dream. I must be hallucinating. I opened my eyes and asked

Is she at home at the moment?

Why certainly, but she is fast asleep I am afraid. Would you like to meet her sometime, be my guest. I shall inform her of your insistence to meet her, Mr. Err

Rolan.

I stood up to leave.

I must leave now, please excuse me sir. But I will come back certainly.

Saying thus I made my way out of the hall glancing one last time at the painting on the wall. I made my quickly out of the garden and out of the gates at a brisk pace afraid to look back. But I couldn’t help one last look at the place. I saw something in one of the windows move, maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was someone watching me.

I hardly cared. I just walked straight on ahead. I reached my lodging, paused at the doors. I considered my options. And I turned back form the doors, and started walking in the direction of my love’s grave. I matched straight on for three hours until I seemingly reached the spot where I had last seen her pretty face. I looked around for the trees, the dead ones. I found one tree. The other tree was not there. It seemed quite impossible someone would have cut the huge tree down in a day without leaving any trace of it. No I must have lost my way somewhere I looked around for some time more. I found no such trees anywhere else. Dejected I sat down at the base of the lone one I had found. It looked really similar to the one I had seen yesterday, I could almost swear on it. But then where was the grave where was the other tree.

I decided to return to the city before it was late. I had not eaten anything since a long time. I was feeling weak. I trudged back to the city on heavy legs. I reached my lodgings. I dropped onto the sack bed like a dead man. I no longer had the strength to think. I just wanted to sleep. I just wanted to die. I wanted to be with my love again.

It was very cold that night. The frost bit into my very bones. Yet I felt happy. I felt sad too. I felt both at the same time. I was hallucinating. Maybe not. Maybe it was happening in reality. Perhaps I was dead. Perhaps I was too tired to live, to breathe. I could no longer hear my heartbeat.

It was light outside. Snow was falling. It was not a good time for travelling but I had no other choice. I had to leave this cursed place. I packed whatever little belongings I had into a tiny sack. And locked the room. I moved into the streets. It was deserted. The snow was deep and was still snowing heavily. It was a sea of whiteness. I decided to visit the cursed Kaiser residence one last time. Maybe I wanted to make sure I was not dreaming. Or maybe to convince myself it was just another nightmare. Whatever the reason, I made my way back to Minstrel Avenue. As Kaiser mansion came into sight, I saw the gates open. It was odd.

I was confused, I walked towards it the mansion looked grand as ever. The huge doors inside suddenly opened slightly. First a crack, then a little more. Wider and wider until I could almost feel the warmth of the fire crackling merrily inside. A figure came to the door. I could not make out who it was. Maybe it was a lady. Was it a ghost? I was not sure. The snow was not helpful either.

The snow was falling fast and thick. White, it was white everywhere outside. It has been snowing outside for the last couple of days. Inside me was just as cold, though not white and it had been snowing since years more than I could remember. It had been long since I felt this way. Betrayed, misunderstood. Lost. It had been long since I had felt pain. It felt good. Did it? I am not sure if it feels good or bad. I am just awed at the feeling again to think of anything else at this moment.

She stood there at the door. She smiled. Or was she smirking at me. I was not sure. I hardly cared anymore. I smiled back. Something about her changed. Her face now bore a look of pain. Maybe she knew. Maybe she did not. I was not sure again. But presently she was stepping out of her home in this cold without any clothes so to speak of. I waned her to go back to the warmth of her house. But all the while she was coming closer. I was gripped by a sudden fear. She reached me, close enough. I could feel her breath on my hollowed cheeks.

Come here boy.

She whispered.

I lowered my ear to her, she put a peck on my hollows, hid her face in her milky white hands and raced back homeward. The snow began to fall faster now. I could hardly see her now. I could hear a small voice, the winds carried back to me.

I will be waiting for you.

I looked up heavenwards. It seemed as if the snowfall had ceased for a few seconds. I smiled again and the heavens smiled again. I felt a few flakes of snow fall on my face and melt under my breath. No everything was fine. I had loved. I had lived.

I turned away from her house. The virgin snow waited for some wary traveller to tread upon it. I looked back and smiled one last time. It was over. I started out again on my journey that I had paused for so many years. In search of some cold desolate country again. Never to return here again. This city was no longer cold.

The snow was not virgin anymore. It bore the immortal marks of a man defeated by love.

Forever it shall.

A tear fell somewhere, it formed a diamond on the snow. Heh…it seemed as if I was crying?

No, it can’t be.

Maybe later…

Much later…

All the things she said kept running through my head, it was driving me mad.

Yet it was not enough…

Ya Soshia S’uma