Fiction

Taro

Taro

I.

Beyond that horizon lies the true purpose of your life.”, he said.

I didn’t think much of it. To me, old Mr. Roy was just old and maybe a little crazy. The things he said were usually abnormal and somewhat twisted. His rather large and thick glasses resembled the bottom of one of my grandmother’s jam bottles. In fact, they looked so old and dusty even as he was wearing them that it seemed to me like he had just dug them out of some excavation site. They were just plainly obscure. But then, old Mr. Roy was an obscure old man. He wore an over-sized gray overcoat that neither matched his brown pleated pants or black laced shoes. He was holding a black hat that he carried everywhere but never actually wore. It seemed eternally fastened to his bony fingers. (more…)

Derelict

Her heart lay where his chest is

And yet her lips remained sealed like the putty on the windows

Two lines that seemed to scream at him in the dull room on the first floor of that derelict house. It didn’t seem to matter to him that he was maybe somewhat violating her privacy. She was his girl after all. He had known her since forever, it seemed. They had been together for as long as he remembered. But something seemed different. She no longer thronged to him. She no longer waited eagerly for his return. It seemed like Annie was distant from him now. It was almost like she had somehow drifted away. But then, he didn’t want to think too much of it. He didn’t like what he saw in her diary but he just did not care.

He hated the smell of the room. The smell of the whole house. It smelled of death. It was unkempt, ugly, dark and just plain uncomfortable. He wondered how that happened. That beautiful home was now a derelict looking ruin. But then again, he did not care to think more of it.

In another part of town, twenty-one year old Annie was visiting an old couple. She had brought them homemade applesauce and a few coconut frosted cookies. But what Mr. and Mrs. Brown didn’t know was that Annie was there to actually be with Ben, their son. Her boyfriend, Dave, her highschool sweetheart had left for the city three years ago. And with that, he never came back. He never wrote. He never called. Though once in a blue moon, she would receive small gifts like the crystal swan on the mantle at home. In her mind, they were over anyway.
Little did she know he was at her house that very moment.

Annie had begun to write a few lines of what she thought was poetry. Or maybe it was. What troubled her though, was that it was dark and depressing. So many pages of her diary, she had burnt in the fireplace. They were just too dark.

When she returned later in the evening, she found Dave in the sitting room glued to his computer. His eyes shifted to her when she sighed. He said, ” and where have you been?” She smiled and said, ” I should be asking you that.” He rose up from his chair and walked up to her. He tried to hug her, it seemed but she cringed. She did not want him to touch her. He was far too late. Her eyes spoke softly asking him why he never came back. He had abandoned her.

He spoke softly. He said, ” Annie darling, forgive me. I’m not worthy of your love.”

The magic huskiness of his voice caught her again. For a moment, she believed him again. She was his’ again. They stared at each others eyes, their slates were clean. Just then, she belonged to him once more. She loved him once more. It bewildered even herself, how she always went back to him. He had hurt her deeply. But she forgave him nonetheless.

The next morning, he left again. Whether he would return and whether he would write or call, she did not know. The sun was bright that morning. And for once, just once, the house seemed alive again.

house

*picture taken from: http://curbed.com/archives/2011/10/28/americas-spookiest-old-houses.php
*This is entirely a work of fiction.