Dream of the Day

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An opportunity lost.
602 words
6k
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Author's Note:This is very likely the only piece of non-fiction I will ever submit on this site. Every word of this story is true. Sad, and true.

*

I stood there, gazing with sad eyes across the crowded hallway. There were dozens upon dozens of people around, but I was alone in this moment. A sea of grief divided within my heart. There was an insistent throbbing somewhere deep within my soul, and I felt as if it could go unanswered no longer. It was now or never.

She sat before a glass case, alit with sparkling jewels and metals. A casual grace suffused from her, filling the air and the room with a radiance that these mere stones only wished to match. Her eyes glittered like moonlight on the ocean, an endless world of blues and greens hidden beneath a turbulent surface. Wispy curls of brown were her hair, like mist on the surface of a lake at dawn.

Beside her, invading her glory, unworthy, sat he. I burned him with my eyes, shouting in my mind of his insulting existence. There was no part of my being that could be more aflame with the thought of how hideously I wanted to end it all. Step forth, take hold of her, and simply walk out of his life.

They both smiled, not seeing my face. A clerk across the way handed her a band bedazzled with diamonds, each and every facet reflecting a tiny image of her magnificence. I saw them all, and coveted each one. She gingerly pulled the ring across one knuckle and another. He gazed proudly at the prize that he would soon acquire, she gazed silently at the symbolism she wore.

I willed my legs to action before I had any notion of what was happening. My feet fell hard on ceramic, my legs heavy. As if my head were gliding independently of my body, I watched with steady eyes as I drew closer. Perhaps no eyes were on me now, but I felt as if there was no one more important in the world.

"Take that off," I said in a hollow monotone. She looked at me. He looked at me. They all looked at me. Now, the eyes were real.

While he remained numb, silent, she asked her question. "Excuse me?"

"Take it off," I reiterated, now indicating the ring she wore with an extended index finger. "If you don't, then you can't walk out of here with me.

"Hey," he began, and I silenced him with my hand. A flat palm faced him, calm and still.

I spoke. "She has to answer. Not you."

Her head turned with a grimace. Not remorse, not pity. She simply ached. Their eyes met as she slid the white gold off and away. In one gesture she washed her body and spirit of him. Two rings fell to the glass, clattering in an empty way. He, and all his vestiges, would hinder her no longer.

I took her naked hand in mine, and she rose. As we walked out, away from the eyes, she smiled. There could be no better ending to any fantasy or fairy tale. But, this was no fantasy or fairy tale. And this was not the ending.

I stood where I always had, my daydream dissolving before my very eyes, watching her walk away with him. There was dull pain somewhere in the pit of my soul, and I felt my spirit cry out in anguish as my body simply remained, stoic, still, standing. It was now or never. I had chosen never.

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