Tuesday, 14 January 2014

The Storyteller

Things have never really been the same again. He went up North and she went down South. According to her, he has lost it. He has lost what she wants; the very thing that energizes her and brings her alive. She doesn't remember when they last had any quality time in a world where everything was quantified.

He was jarred and getting lost in his world; dealing with his devils. He was up against everything, except himself. He hasn't lost the magic that fixates her and hasn't lost the charm befitting a Prince, only, no one had told her that reality is harsh. She has shut her eyes to the occurrences around her and given up on life. However, she clung and became friends with hope; an attribute she needed so badly in that dire moment.

Hope will come around anytime, even uninvited. Hope tells her it was going to be alright. It also tells her to take it easy and hang in there. Lastly, hope assured her that, her man has not lost the magic of loving her the way she wanted, neither has he lost the art of telling her stories. Even though, she didn't believe, she smiled at the insight.

The insight energized her and brought back fond memories, so she reached out for her backpack and stuffed it with a Walkman, a pen and a paper, a couple of assorted fruit bonbons from the dining table  and her phone she had switched off all day. She was headed for their favorite spot at the beach to have a quiet time. For a change, she was going to do what she hasn't done before. She wants her man, and she is going to do everything, maybe, just something to have him.

She is going to try her hands at penning down her feelings in simple terms. She is no award winning writer. She is just a lover who wants things better than they were.

Just before she set out to write a sestet for him, she felt some eyes boring into her. She frantically looked around, but saw nothing, so she began writing.

My bony ebony
If only I could see u 
I would not be this blue
And we might just sail through 
just as wishes will not be horses 
I can never get over your kisses

As soon as she dotted the last sentence, the apparent feeling manifested. He has come looking for her, after calling her phone all day. He hugged her from behind and a combination of fear and a clout of mixed feelings of whether to be indifferent or hug back came to the fore. But before she could actually think, her body, spirit and soul has taken over reasoning, and she hugged back. He then pulled a mail envelope from the back pocket of his branded Akademiks denim Jeans, while the moment was still tensed up and he gently shoved it into her already opened hand.  "Here", and he started to walk away.

She quickly opened the envelope and shakily removed the pad  but it was tightly folded. She unfold,ed the first one and it was blank. Second one, and it was the same. These, coupled with the fact that the distance between them was widening was not amusing, she was becoming apprehensive. The suspense heightened till the fifth, which was coincidentally the last one and this had something scribbled on it.

I haven't lost my story telling abilities to u and I'm still your man. i will forever be your Prince Charming, and I want you to now and always be mine. Call me when you are ready and let's make up. Come see me and let's change the world!

And now, with her lit eyes, she didn't even know if she should just jolly after him or sit back and refine her poem for him.

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