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By Lisvan Rodrigues

She walked down past the beach side, her feet leaving a trail on the sands she walked upon, she gazed straight onto the horizon, not moving, it was her birthday; she was growing older. A thought swept past her head, what if life was perfect? What if there were no worries and what if one didn’t have to die lonely?

It was an year ago her husband died of a cardiac arrest, she had always hoped that she be the first one to finish the life’s journey, she always wished their lives ended on the same note on which they had started it; ‘a happy one’… After long years of waiting for the prince she had finally found him, He wasn’t the ideal guy every girl wished for, he was just perfect for her, crazy as she was, she couldn’t find anyone as good as him. Life sailed smooth after he asked her out. It was a one in a million love story, one in which she had to kiss no frog, as a matter of fact they zinged the first time their eyes met. It was perfect.

Her footprints left a long trail and suddenly they came to a standstill, she appeared tired, she was growing old, she watched the sun devoured by the sea, and walked back hesitantly to yet spend another lonely night. He used to compose music for her as she sang to the melodies of his melancholy tune. The moon shone bright and the stars twinkled, as she remembered the happy times they had together. They were inseparable.

50 years together isn’t a long time; forever is what they had promised each other. He stood in his tux as the beautiful lady walked up to him. The old man stood in awe; she was just as beautiful as the first time he had seen her, the time they had zinged. He pulled the chair and opened his violin case, and before taking the fiddle out he placed the camera which always recorded him playing; ‘Memories fade at times, but this shall help us remember our beautiful

moments together,’ he would always say. He took the fiddle out and kissed it as he placed it at his chin, gave the most majestic look and he then played the most beautiful piece ever written. She applauded as he ended, he walked up to her and with great difficulty he knelt and looked straight into her eyes as if to say, ‘you have given me more than I ever deserved in a single life time.’ Not one word spoken they knew, life would never be the same.

She open the door as she entered her house, it was just as silent, just as motionless, as her husband was, when she was trying to wake him up for breakfast the night after their anniversary. She was devastated, she was broken, and out of everything she tried what only helped was little but to cloud her memories with his thoughts.

She picked the phone which was ringing for quite some time a familiar voice said ‘Hello’. Their son David spoke from the other end, he had called to inform her about the sudden trip he would make down town and stay over. She sat back motionless as her thoughts ran back.

David had moved with his wife and children, to a different state for better prospects, away for 10 years he hadn’t made a trip to meet his old parents, not to celebrate even their 50th anniversary, not even his father’s sudden demise could get David back and at last he would be coming home, She was happy, she would see her son, She was happy his face would give her some courage to deal with what she was going through, She was lonely, she wouldn’t be anymore, now that her son would return. A rainbow is what she had longed for, and she was already seeing it from a distance.

She showered as she hummed the tune of the song, she always loved to play on the violin with Victor, She was a faithful student, he was a dedicated teacher and she followed his every step even though she loved to sing to his melodies, more than playing the notes on the fiddle. Today she had this urge to play the notes, she missed him.

She walked out of the bathroom as she straight went to the fiddle which was lying on the bed where Victor slept, besides which a file of compiled notes was opened, she grabbed a music sheet as she placed Victors favorite camera; further on she finished all the rituals Victor always followed before playing the fiddle, she wore his coat and opened the balcony; the moon light reflected from the fiddle onto her wrinkled face. She was pretty, ‘This is for you David’ she whispered with a smile as the camera recorded her playing, that beautiful melody which Victor had played last for her. The melancholic music faded with not a smooth end…

She collapsed to the floor; No struggle, she just lay motionless as with a smile she whispered, letting out her last breath, ‘We Love you David, We always do.’

By Lisvan Rodrigues

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