Love Story – She Awaits the Black Crow
Photo credit: taliesin from morguefile.com
The dark was heavy but a vast sheet of stars beautifully illuminated the little grassland where he and she lay, observing the tiny gems in the night-sky, and so he was able to see the radiance of her youthful face and for that he was content.
The wind had a friendly gush but at that moment, had a sound enough to overpower that of a ticking clock but she swore, she could hear his heartbeat, and he swore, he could hear her heartbeat. The silence was beautiful; it seemed as if the two lovers let Nature do the job of speaking— it seemed to speak for them both, for the warmth of the grass on which they rested was just as comforting as their love for each other, and the sweetness of the air, the lady could compare to the gentleman’s lips when they kissed; and the sweetness of the air, the gentleman could compare to the lady’s lips when they kissed.
Only did the winds and the rejuvenating ambiance cease when the man asked the love of his life a question that would later alarm her more than it should have: what would you do were I to lose my life in a disaster?
She looked at him with curious eyes and he felt them pierce through his heart, and then his soul, and at that one look he loved her even more. What kind of disaster, my love? She asked him back.
All right, darling. Let me rephrase my question: what would you do were I to lose my life? Were I to disappear, and no one but God knew my whereabouts?
Worried, she shook her head and gazed at the stars once again. And then she uttered these words: My love, were you to lose your life in a disaster, I would take away my own so I could be with you; were you to disappear and no one but God knew your whereabouts, I would wait for you.
With those words, he flashed a little smile which the lady always complimented him for, for his smile, to her, was similar to an upside-down rainbow for its simple perfection. Little did they know, that night’s soft winds would turn to deafening sounds of explosives, a kiss to an exchange of bullets, a smile to cries and frowns of millions of men, and a grassland to a bloody battlefield.
The gentleman promised the lady that no matter the circumstance, she would one day see him running to her as she smoked in her patio. She hoped and prayed and waited until she developed an illness, had thinning, white hair, could barely walk, could barely think right, but all throughout her sick days there was only one thought in her mind: the gentleman. She waited until the only doctor she could afford informed her that she had only a few months to live, and unsurprisingly, she waited until the night fell once again. This time, permanently.
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