Without you
He opened her
unrelenting palms to reveal a crimson red hand sheltering the carcass
of what may have been a beautiful red bud once. The bud was embedded so
well in her hand that it appeared as integral a part of her hand as
the fate lines. Though not much of her fate was in her hands. Not even
the strong wind blowing across could separate the bud from its resting
place. He ran his hand softly over her palm, the loving touch drawing
the bud with it, maybe that’s what the bud yearned for all its life
time, a touch of love.
He opened the letter; the letter that once accompanied the bud. It had the same smell on it as the perfume that she herself had worn, though by now she was robbed of most of that pleasant smell. He glanced at her as if asking her permission to read the letter, she hadn’t battled an eyelid since he arrived, her constant stare and expressionless face did little to reveal the pain in her heart. He opened the letter, wet from lying close to a crying heart, trying to comfort it.
“I know this is the most important day of your life and I sincerely hope the news and this letter doesn’t reach you before it happens.
I just wanted to reassure that you are nowhere at fault, I am the one who failed but I couldn’t help it.
I even tried to act on your advice but couldn’t. I don’t know how to try and find love again.
I never tried before and I never tried with you. With you, it just happened, It was happening every moment I spend with you or without you, thinking about you.
If I had any control, I would have chosen not to fall in love with you. Finally I realized it wasn’t love I yearned but it was you.
I can live without love but not without you”
The letter felt uncharacteristically heavy now, he hurriedly closed it fearing the emotions in them will drown him. He looked back at her, the cold stare was still there, but not as cold as her lifeless body, ironically wrapped in a lively Red Wedding dress. He dropped the letter in a aseptic plastic bag, the letter would be a vital clue in reaching a verdict in the seemingly unrelated double suicide case. This was the easiest murder case for Inspector Sanjeev to solve but the most difficult one to go through.
He opened the letter; the letter that once accompanied the bud. It had the same smell on it as the perfume that she herself had worn, though by now she was robbed of most of that pleasant smell. He glanced at her as if asking her permission to read the letter, she hadn’t battled an eyelid since he arrived, her constant stare and expressionless face did little to reveal the pain in her heart. He opened the letter, wet from lying close to a crying heart, trying to comfort it.
“I know this is the most important day of your life and I sincerely hope the news and this letter doesn’t reach you before it happens.
I just wanted to reassure that you are nowhere at fault, I am the one who failed but I couldn’t help it.
I even tried to act on your advice but couldn’t. I don’t know how to try and find love again.
I never tried before and I never tried with you. With you, it just happened, It was happening every moment I spend with you or without you, thinking about you.
If I had any control, I would have chosen not to fall in love with you. Finally I realized it wasn’t love I yearned but it was you.
I can live without love but not without you”
The letter felt uncharacteristically heavy now, he hurriedly closed it fearing the emotions in them will drown him. He looked back at her, the cold stare was still there, but not as cold as her lifeless body, ironically wrapped in a lively Red Wedding dress. He dropped the letter in a aseptic plastic bag, the letter would be a vital clue in reaching a verdict in the seemingly unrelated double suicide case. This was the easiest murder case for Inspector Sanjeev to solve but the most difficult one to go through.
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