It was late afternoon. The underside of the sun dipped into the vivid, crystal clear waters of the lake. The warm sunbeams reached down and gingerly tickled the soft blades of the grass, and then it stretched up and touched the delightful, limitless sky. Across the lush green field, blossoming flowers flourished. Bluebells, buttercups and pink daisies. Bees hummed, birds chirped, and crickets sang in earnest. This was a scene taken directly from paradise.
Perched firmly in between the passion-blue lake and the field was a mansion. The brick walls were a divine copper-red. The transparent glass of the twenty one windows glistened like chipped diamonds under the sun’s glare. One of the windows revealed a part of what seemed to belong to a grand piano while another revealed a wardrobe.
The mansion could easily have been taken for empty if it wasn’t the lone figure that came into view and took a seat in front of one of the topmost windows. The figure leaned closer and placed one of his hands on the windowsill; the other hand fidgeted tiredly with the curtains.
Half an hour passed, and the sun began to make its journey home. The sunset was a painted combination of a peachy sort of pink, vehement orange, light blue, and the faintest shade of violet. But the man by the window did not move to leave.
Another half hour passed, and the moon was now shining vaguely in the middle of a deserted twilight sky. Still the man did not move. Once, however, he did raise his head before lowering it again.
A third half hour passed, and all but the intense, ghost-white sphere was dark.
This was when the man wearily stood up and turned the lamp on. Through the window, he could see his unclear reflection. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and his refined double-eyelids had glued themselves despairingly into single ones. He opened his mouth and wetted his cracked lips. The man looked into the night and murmured one forlorn word, “Why?”
He absently traced his own eye. He remembered the way she had laughed and said his dark brown, almost black, eyes were soulful. He remembered how she could read him like an open book just by a single glance at his 'soulful eyes'. He remembered how her petal-pink lips would open and form the word ‘Johnny’. Fourteen years were a long time. But it had passed so quickly. It had seemed so… short. He had loved her and she him. So he didn’t blame her for their split – they had, after all, come to the same conclusion together. It was for the best.
But was it really?
The decision had been the easiest, but was it really the right one? He didn’t know. And he probably never would.
And the kids also had to be taken into consideration.
His witty, darling and sassy children. Lily and Jack. Did they really have to either be motherless or fatherless? Maybe. Did they deserve that? Of course not.
He wished he could give them more. They were all he had. It was ironic, really. He had money, fame and influence… And yet he couldn’t even do them one little favor. It was times like these that he hated himself. There were people who thought he was almost like a god; that he could do everything. But he couldn’t – he was only human. A teardrop formed at the corner of his right eye and he blinked it away.
Exhaling deeply, he reached inside his pocket and, for the millionth time that week, took out a photograph. Vanessa was smiling, Lily was smiling, Jack was practically beaming, and even he had grinned into the camera. And Vanessa's windblown hair had been whipping back and forth across her face. He had never taken notice of these things before. It had been taken on a ferry. Everything had been ridiculously perfect back then. Lily had been twelve and Jack had been merely eight.
A tear slid down the side of his cheek, making its watery trail. He fiercely swiped it away . He didn't believe there was any shame in crying - but he didn't feel justified to cry; he had no right. Especially when he was the reason the whole tragedy befell his family.
All he ever wanted was happiness for his loved ones.
But perhaps he could still achieve that and redeem himself.
He would give Vanessa her space.
And his children the love they deserved.
And make up for everything.
And after that, everything would fall into place like a jigsaw puzzle.
After that, the future would be bright.
...Outside the mansion, the sky darkened ominously and it began to rain.
Forgive me if this humble piece of work sounds horrible. My writing skills are getting a bit creaky. I never was very good at portraying people's personalities and emotions. However, I hope this satisfy.
Perched firmly in between the passion-blue lake and the field was a mansion. The brick walls were a divine copper-red. The transparent glass of the twenty one windows glistened like chipped diamonds under the sun’s glare. One of the windows revealed a part of what seemed to belong to a grand piano while another revealed a wardrobe.
The mansion could easily have been taken for empty if it wasn’t the lone figure that came into view and took a seat in front of one of the topmost windows. The figure leaned closer and placed one of his hands on the windowsill; the other hand fidgeted tiredly with the curtains.
Half an hour passed, and the sun began to make its journey home. The sunset was a painted combination of a peachy sort of pink, vehement orange, light blue, and the faintest shade of violet. But the man by the window did not move to leave.
Another half hour passed, and the moon was now shining vaguely in the middle of a deserted twilight sky. Still the man did not move. Once, however, he did raise his head before lowering it again.
A third half hour passed, and all but the intense, ghost-white sphere was dark.
This was when the man wearily stood up and turned the lamp on. Through the window, he could see his unclear reflection. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and his refined double-eyelids had glued themselves despairingly into single ones. He opened his mouth and wetted his cracked lips. The man looked into the night and murmured one forlorn word, “Why?”
He absently traced his own eye. He remembered the way she had laughed and said his dark brown, almost black, eyes were soulful. He remembered how she could read him like an open book just by a single glance at his 'soulful eyes'. He remembered how her petal-pink lips would open and form the word ‘Johnny’. Fourteen years were a long time. But it had passed so quickly. It had seemed so… short. He had loved her and she him. So he didn’t blame her for their split – they had, after all, come to the same conclusion together. It was for the best.
But was it really?
The decision had been the easiest, but was it really the right one? He didn’t know. And he probably never would.
And the kids also had to be taken into consideration.
His witty, darling and sassy children. Lily and Jack. Did they really have to either be motherless or fatherless? Maybe. Did they deserve that? Of course not.
He wished he could give them more. They were all he had. It was ironic, really. He had money, fame and influence… And yet he couldn’t even do them one little favor. It was times like these that he hated himself. There were people who thought he was almost like a god; that he could do everything. But he couldn’t – he was only human. A teardrop formed at the corner of his right eye and he blinked it away.
Exhaling deeply, he reached inside his pocket and, for the millionth time that week, took out a photograph. Vanessa was smiling, Lily was smiling, Jack was practically beaming, and even he had grinned into the camera. And Vanessa's windblown hair had been whipping back and forth across her face. He had never taken notice of these things before. It had been taken on a ferry. Everything had been ridiculously perfect back then. Lily had been twelve and Jack had been merely eight.
A tear slid down the side of his cheek, making its watery trail. He fiercely swiped it away . He didn't believe there was any shame in crying - but he didn't feel justified to cry; he had no right. Especially when he was the reason the whole tragedy befell his family.
All he ever wanted was happiness for his loved ones.
But perhaps he could still achieve that and redeem himself.
He would give Vanessa her space.
And his children the love they deserved.
And make up for everything.
And after that, everything would fall into place like a jigsaw puzzle.
After that, the future would be bright.
...Outside the mansion, the sky darkened ominously and it began to rain.
Forgive me if this humble piece of work sounds horrible. My writing skills are getting a bit creaky. I never was very good at portraying people's personalities and emotions. However, I hope this satisfy.
last edited più di un anno fa