He found her Christmas present on the 17th
October, lying amongst a scattering of Autumn’s first fall.
He knew it was hers instantly and so he
picked it up, cradling it carefully in his hands and took it home.
He showed it to a woman on the train.
“A heart” she said.
He placed it between pages 1130 and 1131 of
the book he was slowly reading and he hoped that the colours wouldn’t fade in
November.
Yellow and rust, speckled with a shading of
green where a fin would be.
Because it looked like a fish.
Swimming.
An eye watching and a mouth smiling.
He closed the book and carried it with him
each day.
At nights when he opened the pages to read
he would turn and look between 1130 and 1131.
He couldn’t say if the colours were
staying, if change was there it was incremental, but the leaf was becoming
thinner like the paper pages that held it.
As the membrane stiffened and dried the
heart became clearer.
His bookmark was between page 757 and 756
so he wondered if he would reach page 1130 before Christmas time.
The book is not a love story but on page
757 a man is searching for the woman he loves.
The woman is searching for him too.
And she loves him.
But they have not seen each other for over
twenty years and the last time was when they were both at Primary school.
Love endures.
As he reads he hopes that the leaf endures.
It’s her Christmas Present and he knew as
soon as he saw it.
Lying among the discarded thoughts of
Autumn.
In the book, she is looking for him.
He, is looking for her.
He starts to read faster, skipping past the
words that hold them apart – he wants them to be together before the snows of
winter fall.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment