A Short (painfully so) Story
PostPosted: Sat Feb 14, 2004 11:19 am
[Author's note: I recieved a challenge a little while back to write a short story in 250 words or under, so this is what I got. ^^ Tell me what you think!]
At The Window - by Kokoro Daisuke
Looking out the window, the sky seems so grey and unfriendly. I wonder, would you still be walking home in this weather? Would you keep walking just to reach me? I wonder out loud and the people who hear me tell me you aren't walking home at all. They say you're no coming back, but I know you will. I know you'd never leave me. I know you'd never leave me alone. Sometimes they beg me to come away from the window. But don't worry, I won't leave. I'll sit here and wait for you. I'll be the first to run to you and greet you.
On days like this I like to light a candle for you and sit beside it in the window. Sometimes the first flame isn't bright enough, so I take my fingers, snuff it out, and light it again. And again. And again.
I take pictures of you and me and set them on the window sill. Just so you know it's me up here. And I hope when you finally come to this street, when finally you see my candle you'll tell yourself, "He was waiting for me. He never lost hope."
Sometimes they beg me to put out the candle and come away from the window. But I don't want to go. Sometimes they tell me they put flowers at your grave today. But I know you'd never leave.
At The Window - by Kokoro Daisuke
Looking out the window, the sky seems so grey and unfriendly. I wonder, would you still be walking home in this weather? Would you keep walking just to reach me? I wonder out loud and the people who hear me tell me you aren't walking home at all. They say you're no coming back, but I know you will. I know you'd never leave me. I know you'd never leave me alone. Sometimes they beg me to come away from the window. But don't worry, I won't leave. I'll sit here and wait for you. I'll be the first to run to you and greet you.
On days like this I like to light a candle for you and sit beside it in the window. Sometimes the first flame isn't bright enough, so I take my fingers, snuff it out, and light it again. And again. And again.
I take pictures of you and me and set them on the window sill. Just so you know it's me up here. And I hope when you finally come to this street, when finally you see my candle you'll tell yourself, "He was waiting for me. He never lost hope."
Sometimes they beg me to put out the candle and come away from the window. But I don't want to go. Sometimes they tell me they put flowers at your grave today. But I know you'd never leave.
