In death, all things become clear. The motion of few shadows causes no disturbance to anyone in that room. The scent of burning flesh, the blood scattered all over the white floor and the agony from every voice being heard was neglected by her ears. As she walk down the hall. As she moves closer to the door, she whispered, “…tomorrow would not be just an ordinary day. And the past nor the future will not be an issue anymore. And it leaves me and this moment alone”. A crystal of tear fell from her eye. As she stands in front of the door, her soul suddenly felt incapable of moving. She finds the urge to take a deep breath as if it would be the first and last she would do. She grabs the knob and turn it. And there it was, as the vision becomes clear, as the radiance engulfed its surroundings, and then… nothing…
The scorching sun that is peeking from his window made him come to his senses. He had been sleeping for about a couple of hours. Even though he had already waked up, her eyes are still begging for an extra time of sleep. He noticed the empty bottle and a half filled glass of wine on the side table, he had been drinking last night before sleeping. He then realized that he had fallen asleep on the couch. He stood up and walked through the parquet floor of his apartment, realizing and wondering what would be up for this day. Feeling dizzy and tired, he proceeds to the kitchen to have a breakfast. As he strolls down, he saw his works. He then noticed a empty, white, clean and unblemished canvas hanging on the corner. He sat in front of it and stare. He’s been dying to work on this canvas but it’s just not the right time to shed colors to this cloth. What he feels right now is not enough to start things out. He had always been living and deciding with his feelings. He is a painter and feeling has something to do with his piece. He has an incredible manner of reasoning, in a logical way. His narrow, brown eyes made him look vulnerable. It was the first time he felt the emptiness he had inside. He’s weak, emotionally unstable. The thought of tomorrow scares him and every time he thinks of it, the word Titanic comes to mind. “Thirty thousand people die everyday because of starvation and here i am, shaking my own foundations and loosing my ground. For God’s sake, let the wind touch my face…”
It was Wednesday afternoon and it was hell of a day. Pressure from his work is crawling up to his nerves. Thirty minutes more and he’ll be leaving his purgatory work. He’s been around for about two months in his paralegal part time work but it’s like a decade or two. Work is done and everything has to go. He cleaned his table and leaves the building. As he walks through the busy street, he suddenly smelled the aroma of a very good brewed coffee. He was not a coffee shop person; he likes it when it’s strong and sip it while walking. A strong black coffee is all he need to calm everything down. He was about to leave the premises when a light strongly struck his eyes.
He looked at the table beside the window and there he saw an illumination to this woman. She’s glowing. It was unfathomable. A mysterious light within her while she’s staring blankly outside. She was devastatingly beautiful. She has the face of an angel chiseled by the hands of God. He can tell that she’s been living her almost perfect life. Every move she makes was more of a dance to her, graceful. She does it so effortlessly. Her narrow, sharp eyes say that she’s invulnerable. Her eyes, defense to cover up everything. This young woman captured every man’s heart who comes on her way. He then realizes that he’s been standing and staring like an idiot for quite some time, waiting for some thing to happen. He scanned the floor and look for an empty seat. And there, a table and some left over coffee and sweets. It was a perfect spot. He sit and lay down his coffee and continue staring at her. “…she changed alot.”
It was on the 3rd week of January, in the University. Everybody is busy and have their lives of their own. Philosophy of Man was the class; he was sitting at the back. And this quiet young woman was in front. It was the day after the major examination. The Professor randomly gave back the test booklets to the students to check it. Luckily, he got her paper. He knows that this girl buying for a scholarship, and a high grades will be a great help. Professor started to dictate the answer, as the student listen in every letter that comes out of his mouth. It was a hundred items multiple choice exam. He started checking, leaving the wrong ones behind. He counted forty seven correct answers. Way too far for a scholarship. He knows he have to do something about it. He knows that it’s the only way she’ll notice him. Might notice him. The banging of the classroom door disturbed the busy students. It was a university employee who’s been looking for the resident Professor of Humanities Department. The conversation took a while, he still convincing himself if he’s gonna go with his plan. “Damn, what the hell”. Armed with his pen, with a dose of his artistic hands and a three-year residency in Fine Arts Department, he reach for his bag and get the blank test booklet he bought before the class. He started doodling, copying every single stroke she made. He wrote her name as if they were the same person. It was hell of a job. A forger’s job. It’s like forging the Excalibur… in 21st century. No one can stop him. Not even the rain can stop a man’s heart made of fire. And there it was, the “Mona Lisa”. A masterpiece. It was perfect, even the CIA can’t even decipher which is which. The Professor asks for the test booklets and announces the scores, and it was her who took the highest score. Ninety six, she got it right. Four of them? he made it wrong so it would not be obvious. She was happy. And shocked. Three o’ clock and the class is dismissed. He waited for the people to go out before making a move. He waited patiently in his seat. Watching every move she makes. She still can’t believe what she’s seeing, turning every page until she reaches the last. It was a white three petal flower, about fifteen centimeters of illustration. Enough to occupy the majority of the page. Enough to be notice. He stood up and walks to approach her. He’s determined now, he’s gonna make a move . Few steps and he’s there. People entered the room, coming from every direction. This is wrong, he said to himself. She saw them and stood up and went outside. He was stalled by the people coming in and out of the classroom. He was trying to grab her hands but he can’t. Unfortunately, he lost her. He wanted to scream.
The painter amused seeing his work, as he throws his final touches. he then noticed the flower on top of his table. It was a white three petal flower. He examines every table. None of them have the same flower like what he has. He takes a look at the mirror, grab the flower and put it in his pocket and continue his sketch. He noticed that the woman in front of him is getting ready to leave the coffee shop. He really wanted set a conversation with her, after all those years. “…think, think think!” And all he got was “Please hold on just another minute…” and rushingly sat in front of her.
He woke up in the busy waiting area lounge of the airport. He arrive early at Washington Dulle’s Airport. He was excited to see her. It was the day they met in the coffee shop and he was planning to propose to her. Its been a year now and its about time to setttle things out. It was almost Seven Thirty in the morning when he checked in his baggage. He then reaches for his coat and there a little black box containing a ring. “…someday is today.” He’s ready to board the plane. He started to walk and there he sees the huge white aircraft. He then looked at the tail and reads “American Airlines”. As he passed the final inspection, he felt something different that he can’t explain. He wanted to cry but there’s no reason to.
In death, all things become clear. It was September 11. He died in a plane crash along with the others. Her quiet sleep was disturbed by an early phone call. She rushed to her car and drove as fast as she can until she arrives at the hospital. The motion of few shadows causes no disturbance to anyone in that room. The scent of burning flesh, the blood scattered all over the the white floor and the agony from every voice being heard was neglected by her ears. As she walk down the hall. As she moves closer to the door, she whispered, “…tomorrow would not be just an ordinary day. And the past nor the future will not be an issue anymore. And it leaves me and this moment alone”. A crystal of tear fell from her eye. As she stands in front of the morgue door, her soul suddenly felt incapable of moving. She finds the urge to take a deep breath as if it would be the first and last she would do. She grabs the knob and turn it. And there it was, several black body bags lined up in front of her. She’s having a hard time breathing. Gasping every breath, she slowly walks toward this bag. It was glowing. A mysterious light within while she’s staring blankly from the outside. And as the vision becomes clear, as the radiance engulfed its surroundings, and then… nothing…
-b†
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