Short Story Sunday #3

 

The Lovers' Garden

      Why must you make me wait? Why? Why do you torture me with empty love? What heart do you have? These were the things that Penelope thought to herself as she waited for her lover in his garden. Her lover who she was to be engaged to at some time waited from the window. She did not know the time nor the hour he would propose. 

    "Peter! Peter! My dearly beloved where are you? I wait outside in your garden and I answer your calls, yet you give me no reply!" Penelope cried out as she stood there almost half-crying. Her heart was set on him. Peter saw this yet he closed the drape. He turned and looked at all that was in the room he stood in. He saw the many books upon the wall in shelves half of them he considered reading and the other half he thought about reading but never did. He was hesitant. Part of him did love Penelope. Part of him did. The other part was hesitant. 

    Was he to love her for life till death do them part? Was it so that he should give his life to her? He then thought to himself. To put any discrepancies aside and any worries away would be a good thing. However, I must see any reason why I should not love her. He opened the drape peering at her from a distance as she kicked some dirt on the ground of the garden and looked down sadly at the flowers. She thought to herself about the bouquet she would have at their wedding and all the floral arrangements about the place like one of those old Greek celebratory festivals of old.

    Peter came to his senses and closed the drape and entered into the Garden. 

    "Penelope my dear, why should I love you if I haven't already?" Peter asked as he held his hands on each pillar of the doorframe. He looked stern and serious but in a soft way. The way someone who cares about another looks. 

    Penelope looked up with her big eyes that were full of sorrow. She longed for Peter she wanted to give her all to him but did not know what words to say to appease him. She looked sad with her reddish-brown hair that was up in a curled updo and her gloomy brown eyes. She was tall and slender like one of those Victorian age women.

    "Peter, you should love me not because of how beautiful I am but the love that we share with each other. Even then you should not love me because of the love we share with each other rather, the journey we have shared together in our lives. Do not love me for wealth, for riches, for connections. I am not a transaction. As wealthy as you are I do not see you as a transaction. If my answers do not suffice, I will tell you why I love you. I love you because of your kind deeds and actions. Although now I feel that they can at times be empty. However, I do see you for the gentleman you are. You wish to know to love me not by status but by the merit of your heart. My heart is conflicted too. But nonetheless I do love you for all that you are" Penelope spoke with such elegance changing from a constant sad tone to a more drier and serious monotone. Her heart was moving with each word she spoke like a drummer's drumstick on a snare drum, rolling with each buzz.

    "Penelope if it helps...I have loved you not because of your beauty and wealth. I have loved you because you make me feel seen. When I have been in doubt in countless times, I have been able to go to you for counsel. You have heard me and I have taken your advice countless times. You are a dear friend and nothing less." Peter responded solemnly. By this time Penelope had sat on a stone bench and looked off into the distance as Peter had spoken. Acting as if she didn't hear him, but she did hear each and every one of his words.

    "If you view me as nothing less than a friend is there the possibility that I might be something more? Aren't I your beloved?" Penelope inquired with a fast-paced tone as she turned her head looking daintily into Peter's gaze.

    "My beloved Penelope, I do view you more than just a dear friend. You are my beloved. My commitment only struggles because, What I commit to I commit to. I want to commit to you. I just desire to know that we can commit to each other. Truly we must commit to each other so that we can love one another more fully" Peter explained as he sat down next to her putting his arm around her as she looked off into the distance.

    "So if I am your beloved can you commit to me?" Penelope asked straightforwardly looking into Peter's eyes without hesitation.

    Peter stepped away from the bench and got on one knee. 

    "Penelope my beloved, I can commit and truly I know you love me and I love you in the same way. I wish more than anything to spend the rest of our lives together, Will you marry me?" Peter Proposed.

    "My beloved, despite your tortured dancing, I must oblige and say yes to you." Penelope answered with a soft and sweet voice that she always had.

The End

Short Story Sunday #2

 

The Tortured Soul

    I see no reason for reason. I continue to strive for what is right and the best, yet I continue to fail. I stand here now at this bridge. I look down into the waters below me. How wonderful would it be to end it here. To end all the suffering and torture I have faced. All things I have known will vanish. All the things known about me will vanish. All the falsities, all the truth shall be gone. What worth is life when all has been lost! What worth is it when I continue to fight for freedom, but I remain a slave in chains! What freedom do I have when I cannot seek happiness! I cannot seek wealth nor can I seek stability!

    All that there was, all that there was, was taken away from me! Do you know where it went? Where was it? Am I a condemned man by fate? I was not a lover, I was not an adulterer. I neither propagated gossip nor did I want it. I never did desire wrong. I never tried to do wrong. I only sought to fight for my own merit! I am a fighter! Yet the blood I wish to spill has been spilled on me! Woe to thee that governs me as a tyrant! The slave of wages! I go into that dark cave where I do not see that light. I no longer see the light all is darkness in its depravity!

    I no longer see the darkness. I have made my own light in my suffering. I see the juiciness in a grape beneath a winepress. That sweet wine that comes from it. I sought only my own stability in wealth but there was no work. I lived and used all my wages to survive. I could not live. I wanted to live first before I could love. I could not find any work that brought me up in the classes. I knew at a time it was much easier to move from one class to another. 

    To be ruled or to rule! I desire to rule my own fate and destiny. But I commend my soul into your hands with my own. I cannot move I see the darkness where I thought I would see light! My despair is great and I cannot find joy nor happiness in all the things I seek. With what I seek I cannot ever obtain. The unobtainable is no longer obtainable and what was obtainable is unobtainable. Yes, means no and no means yes. All the things of the world have be turned upside-down in my life. By good merit I worked in my life and by my own merit I go! I do go fiercely into that night!

    I look up from those dark murky waters. I see the clouds and the sun part through them. Although I see hope I do not know it in my heart. I have hoped before yet there is no hope today. I see now there is no other solution. I stand on up high on that bridge and I look down at those waters. I look up again with my arms widespread embracing the cold air despite the sunlight. I close my hands and plunge into those waters. I stay there but there is no joy nore pleasure. Yet I desire to die but I do not die. By what mercy is my fate today. I know there is a tomorrow for now.