MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “love story”

Lotus date

© David Stewart

The lotus flower is unique in its beauty. People are often urged to be like it: to trust the light, grow through the dirt, and believe in new beginnings.

It may not last long in its bloom, but it offers a beautiful sight.

She couldn’t look at a lotus the same way after that night.

It was their first romantic outing in town. And everything seemed so princely. It was those feelings she could not forget, no matter if the details of the date eluded her thereafter.

It all seemed so ideal at first. So perfect.

But it doesn’t last.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

A white pause

©Dale Rogerson

They had been planning the event for months. It was something that had caused many hours of stress, conflict, intense disagreement, even tears. But it was also what made them happy, because it was going to mark the beginning of a bright future together. They believed it.

But very often, it doesn’t matter what plans you make.

Life happens regardless.

And things capsize abruptly.

That day it snowed heavily. Everything was so beautiful in white. Everything but her.

He cried a stream of tears because he remembered their first snow day together.

They were so in love then. So different.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Sentiments of a photo

©C.E.Ayr

There are photos that capture inside of them a bit of your soul. You look at them and can remember every single sentiment you felt in that very moment the photo was taken. You can sense the aura of the person you’re with. The feeling in the air around you. The emotions that ran inside of you.

There are photos like this that you want to keep forever. Or as long as that lasts.

But there are precisely those photos that hurt the most when that sentiment expires.

When you no longer feel that joy, you want all evidence removed.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

A tune that lasts forever

©J Hardy Carroll

She remembered it fondly. How she anticipated their first date. He had announced it to her with a paper plane that flew straight towards her. It was their way of communicating. She was walking on air all morning.

He took her to a diner that had just opened and was the talk of the town. The food was savoury. But that wasn’t what won her over; it was the song he chose on the jukebox and how he picked her up to dance rock n’ roll to what thereafter became their tune.

It was their time. And it became forever.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

It’ll do so, unrestrained

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There was a young man who each day sat at his doorstep gazing at passers-by as if waiting for something, for someone. He would spend the whole day there, anticipating; his eagerness and enthusiasm dimming with the last of the sun’s light. But each morning, he would be there again, repeating the process.

An old woman who would make the passage by his house each day on her road to the market noticed the young man and this pattern of his. She observed the brightness in his eyes at the start of the day and how it was darkened as the day faded. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was looking for, what he was expecting.

But the more she observed each passing day, the more she understood.

So one day, she stopped in front of his doorstep and stood right in front of him hiding the sun from his eyes.

There is no use waiting here at the door of your house, staring at the dead streets ahead. If it’ll come, it will do so without you knowing from where or how. It will approach you suddenly; it will find  you even from behind, softly closing your eyes that are so tired of road-watching. And when you ask who it is, you’ll understand by that skip in your heartbeat. There is no use waiting. If it’ll come, it will do so. Even if everything is wide shut, you’ll see it right in front of you, and it will be the first to embrace you with open arms. It won’t matter if you’re ready or well prepared or not. It won’t change a thing if you run after it or crawl at its feet. If it’ll come, it will do so. Otherwise it will just pass you by”.

The old lady paused, inhaled a deep breath allowing her words to sink into the boy, then turned around and left.

He stood there for a moment, petrified. And then, went inside and shut the door.

If it’ll come, love will find its way.

Inspired by a poem by Kostas Ouranis

Snow frames

© Dale Rogerson

He wasn’t the person who would delve into silence or let others see his feelings. It was something that bothered her, because she couldn’t tell what was going on inside him.

For the past couple of nights, he couldn’t sleep, as if he was waiting for the sun to rise.

Outside the window, not a single noise could be heard. The snow was still fresh, and the snowplough had cleared a path.

She loved snow; it transformed her into a child.

He missed that. That feeling of innocence, playfulness and excitement.

He missed the person he became by her side.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The life we dream and that we live

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He looked out of the window at the cloudy skies. He was physically in his living room, sitting on his couch. But mentally he was far away. Perhaps even on that airplane crossing the sky.

He had never been on an airplane.

He had never even left the country.

He was afraid to leave. To take a risk. He was too much a coward to change his life. He lost too many opportunities and people because of this. And all he had left was to dream. But even that was too much. Because he knew deep inside that those dreams of flying away would never be realised.

On that very plane, there was a girl who travelled all her life. She knew very well what it was like to change environments every now and then, yet longed for somewhere to settle. For some place and someone to call home.

She had just finished reading the romance Erotokritos, the rhymed verses themed around love, honour, friendship, bravery and courage. It was the story of a young man who fell in love with a princess and did whatever he could – even facing exile and sacrifice – to gain her love. But to the young reader, it symbolised more than that. It was an allegory that true love surpasses every hurdle encountered; that when there is a will there is always a way; and that it’s not about finding someone who chases you incessantly or who evidently ignores you, it’s about finding someone who never stops caring or fighting for you. It’s a story about someone who feels deeply and has no problem in showing it in every way possible.

Life is the sum of our actions. These are what make us who we are. What we have the strength to do and what we don’t. What we choose to change and what not. It is who we want to be and who we have the power to become.

Dear Santa

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Dear Santa…

It was strange for an adult to write such a letter. She had stopped since a few years ago when the child inside her wrote a sweet letter to Santa together with her partner at the time, but she never received a reply despite the elves’ reassurances that she would. Disappointment got the better of her.

But the truth is, she stopped writing to Santa because she didn’t know what to ask for. Or rather, she didn’t feel the need to ask for anything.

This year was a bit different.

I don’t want you to bring me anything. But I don’t want you to take anything away from me either”.

She could feel the emotional charge sliding through the pen into the ink on the paper.

I don’t want things anymore. I want people, emotions and experiences. I want the things that will remain intact in time and my heart. I want to be surrounded by people who love me and who stay around for the hard times. People who love in a similar way as I do – with all their heart, unconditionally and without expected anything in return”.

She remembered how easily she could get hurt from those she loved the most, because to them she never raised a shield of protection. She left too much of her heart and soul exposed. It’s something you can’t get back. Because that is how some people love: purely.

But in reality, everyone expects something from others. It’s the source of all disappointment. That we expect and anticipate others to act in the same way we do. But not everyone has the same heart or viewpoint we do.

My wish this year is for things to fall into place. For our souls to be filled with love and serenity, for those who care for us to be strong and healthy, for all the things that cannot be bought to make us happy.

After all, the magic only happens if you believe in it”.

She signed off “with love” and let it fall in the post-box full of anticipation that this time it would be different.

Iced surprises

©Dale Rogerson

Wake up!!

She moaned, turning over the other side. He nudged her softly.

Come on! We have a great day ahead!

They had been driving all night to get there. They were so exhausted when they arrived, they fell asleep immediately.

He kissed her on the forehead and she sprung up. Ten minutes later, they were in the car driving again. But this time they marvelled at the view.

Nature was dressed in white. Everything seemed so calm, so majestic, so elegant.

He stopped at a wooden gazebo by the frozen lake.

He smiled shyly, trembling for what would follow…

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Travelling stories to tell

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When things got rough, they used to just leave. Together. They would travel to someplace new, to fill their hearts with adventure and their minds with enthrallment at how vast our world truly is. They believed that travelling – by car, motorbike, train, airplane, boat, whatever means available according to the destination – opened a person’s heart, broadened their minds and filled them with stories to tell. And they had many.

But lately, they became alienated from each other. And consequently from all the things they did together.

She was always excited when travelling with him, because he became almost a different person; someone more relaxed, more serious, yet thoughtful at the same time. He became the person she fell in love with. As if breaking the bonds that held him captive to his daily routine liberated him into becoming a better version of himself.

He loved travelling with her because it lit up a spark in her eyes; she let out a childish enthusiasm and reminded him all over why he fell in love with her in the first place.

Now, they travelled in different directions.

She went to places that were new to her, where they had never been before together.

He, on the contrary, went to all the same, where they had.

Because one wanted to forget. And the other to always remember.

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