Thy Crimson Tears Make Me Thirst For More: Part 9
Not high-class literature like never before. Somehow I have an obsession of older people in love. I think it's something really beautiful, sharing your life with someone for your whole life and being attached after all that time. There's something really beautiful in old people over all, all their wrinkles and eyes which have seen so much. All the years and memories shining out of them. Something really precious. Comments are welcome as always.
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Mary is pealing the potatoes for the dinner in the kitchen and Henry, her husband of 49 years, is in the garden taking care of the flower beds. It's a warm and sunny June day, there's not a single cloud on the sky and the baby birds are shouting for food, some of them have even started to practice flying. Mary looks through the window to the backyard where Henry is watering the poppies with a straw-hat on his head. She's smiling happily at the sight of her husband. The potato slips from her hands and falls to the floor. With a sigh she bends over to pick the potato up, the wedding ring nearly falling from her finger. She pushes the ring back puzzled. Never has it tried to fall off, to think of it it's been almost impossible to get it off. She takes a look at her husband little worried. He's moved to the roses now. Somehow the watering can looks heavier than the day before. Mary opens the kitchen window and shouts: "Henry! It's quite hot there. Why won't you come for a class of lemonade? You've been working quite a while already."
Henry waves his hand and replies: "I'll be in right after watering all the roses."
Mary leaves the window open and can't get the bad feeling she has out off her mind. 'Has the ring felt loser lately, or am I just imagining?' She continues the cooking, looking more often through the window. Then a green bean drops to the floor. Again with a sigh she reaches down her left hand to collect the fallen bean. Everything happens so slowly. The rings starts to slip of her finger, she can feel the metal running down her skin. She tries to close her hand into a fist but the rings falls before she can get her hand into a fist. As the rings falls to the floor a silent thump emanates from the garden followed by a splash of water.
"Henry!" she cries out and runs in to the garden with bare feet. The water can is lying on the ground next to the man. "Henry!" She falls to the ground and lifts her husband's head to her lap. "Henry" she whispers with a tear in the corner of her eye. The man opens his eyes slowly.
"Is it you, Mary?" He whispers. The sun is shining from behind her making her greyish hair glow. "I though it was an angel."
"Look what you've done to yourself, Henry. I told you to come in."
"I should've listened to you. You are always right. I think I'll rest a moment now. I feel so tired, Mary. Hold me here for a moment and wake me up in fifteen minutes. Will you?"
"Of course I will, my darling Henry. Of course I will" she whispers and plants a kiss to his forehead. He closes his eyes and she can't help but to cry.
***
Can't help but to write these weird things... I'm writing one things inspired by Diablo, but it's on paper and I'm not sure if I'll ever have the inspiration to type it to computer... *babblebabble*
***
Mary is pealing the potatoes for the dinner in the kitchen and Henry, her husband of 49 years, is in the garden taking care of the flower beds. It's a warm and sunny June day, there's not a single cloud on the sky and the baby birds are shouting for food, some of them have even started to practice flying. Mary looks through the window to the backyard where Henry is watering the poppies with a straw-hat on his head. She's smiling happily at the sight of her husband. The potato slips from her hands and falls to the floor. With a sigh she bends over to pick the potato up, the wedding ring nearly falling from her finger. She pushes the ring back puzzled. Never has it tried to fall off, to think of it it's been almost impossible to get it off. She takes a look at her husband little worried. He's moved to the roses now. Somehow the watering can looks heavier than the day before. Mary opens the kitchen window and shouts: "Henry! It's quite hot there. Why won't you come for a class of lemonade? You've been working quite a while already."
Henry waves his hand and replies: "I'll be in right after watering all the roses."
Mary leaves the window open and can't get the bad feeling she has out off her mind. 'Has the ring felt loser lately, or am I just imagining?' She continues the cooking, looking more often through the window. Then a green bean drops to the floor. Again with a sigh she reaches down her left hand to collect the fallen bean. Everything happens so slowly. The rings starts to slip of her finger, she can feel the metal running down her skin. She tries to close her hand into a fist but the rings falls before she can get her hand into a fist. As the rings falls to the floor a silent thump emanates from the garden followed by a splash of water.
"Henry!" she cries out and runs in to the garden with bare feet. The water can is lying on the ground next to the man. "Henry!" She falls to the ground and lifts her husband's head to her lap. "Henry" she whispers with a tear in the corner of her eye. The man opens his eyes slowly.
"Is it you, Mary?" He whispers. The sun is shining from behind her making her greyish hair glow. "I though it was an angel."
"Look what you've done to yourself, Henry. I told you to come in."
"I should've listened to you. You are always right. I think I'll rest a moment now. I feel so tired, Mary. Hold me here for a moment and wake me up in fifteen minutes. Will you?"
"Of course I will, my darling Henry. Of course I will" she whispers and plants a kiss to his forehead. He closes his eyes and she can't help but to cry.
***
Can't help but to write these weird things... I'm writing one things inspired by Diablo, but it's on paper and I'm not sure if I'll ever have the inspiration to type it to computer... *babblebabble*