He Moved Through the Fair

You had me in tears

What a wonderful story

WAR IS HELL

but for those left behind its tragic, lonely and dismal. TK U MLJ LV NV

That has me snivelling like a bairn

Nicely done. "She moves through the fair" was aye one of ma favourite songs. If ye've not heard Marianne Faithful sing it, gie yersel' a treat.

Sadly sweet and very well done. Thank you for sharing 💕

The Great War killed so many of our young men

And then we did it all over again in World War II - so many of the best and the brightest, lost forever. Who knows what they would have contributed to humanity? And of course, the civilians who also lost their lives, being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Still, a lovely story, and I had guessed that those dreams were foreshadowing her death, so she could finally join her Andrew in matrimony.
Short, (bitter)sweet story - I do hope this is one of the award winners.
luv2read2

Beautifully written & elegant..

yet this story is nothing but pure unadulterated feces, let me explain why.

Oh its a short tale, & well written no doubt, but any story of war at its core is of failure,you will argue that no its not, its about the courage, strength & honor, about sacrifice & selflessness, yes i cant deny you those but neither can you deny that war at its heart is cowardice, malicious & vengeful.

Somebody made a comment of how many good people we have lost in wars, to that person i say, Life is perfect.

No i do not live in a bubble, in fact i am currently in a in hospitable place to the color of my skin at the moment.

we read many stories about good defeating evil , light concurring darkness, what we are accidentally kept away from is the Time-scale,
the universe tell its it clearly, life is an anomaly, an aberration in otherwise dynamic & unpredictable energy systems(galaxies)
the universe is extremely hostile to all life as we know with prejudice, if we light a candle in a dark room, we do indeed defeat darkness, alas only for a while. maybe 15 mins, maybe an hour, may be 2-4 hours & then the candle is exhausted out of its flame, & just as that last flame flickers you see how the darkness has again surrounded everything just biding its time to engulf the the room, once more.


am i saying life has no meaning & no purpose, maybe. but that for you to infer.

what i do know is that a woman waits 60 years & frail till she passes hoping to be with the one she could not, oh i do believe you its not fictional, coz i do happen to know a woman in her 50's who still is a spinster as her love of her life was killed in an accident while she was waiting for his return when she was 16, she is very friendly affectionate & courteous to all, its like she live each day, as just one more day till i meet him again.

is that delusional? i did tell her the very same things i wrote here, to that she just smiled & told me , we each believe what we want to believe, without that there is nothing.

i do feel sorry for her, But at the same time a feel very envious about her outlook of life, i also even more sorry for myself because of my outlook on life, & my inability to take joy at the beauty of pain.

i was recently awoken by someone calling out my name while i was sleeping, nobody was there.
to be more factual about it, my name has 3 consonant sounds, & what i do remember is i heard 3 consonant sounds that could to a very high degree resemble my name hence i woke up, it was 5 am.

the thing that worries me , is not that i was awoken by a ghost, rather what i did after i heard the my supposed name, i used to have violin classes when i was 7 & after class my dad would take me to this small cafe where i would eat a very peculiar sweet dish, never did i eat the same taste anywhere else in my life,
yes it was great.
i would visit the place Every wed & sat that when i had the classes, for a month, one day my class was cancelled, so a returned back home on the way back i passed the cafe but it was not open, so i went home.

after the weekend my mother reading the paper made an announcement that 15 people injured & 6 dead at the same cafe, after that i told my mom how i was supposed to go there after class, & she said there was a gas explosion at around the same time i used to visit.

the incident was chalked to one of life;s strange mysteries & soon forgotten by all, except me.


i missed that cafe, Because of the sweet dish, i tried many places after that, i also after many years befriended a good chef & told him my story, he said it was always creepy to hear about kitchen accidents as he works there, somehow he asked me if he could try to make the dish, i told him that maybe it was a psychological attachment i might have had to the taste rather than that nobody else was able to replicate it. he said he would still like to try, & even though i had told him as much as i could about the food & he had prepared it before many times, he failed to remind me of the same taste.

a few years a have passed, even i tried a many times to make the dish, but always failed, atleast the chef was a much closer but not exact. something was lacking, & a lot was lacking from my preparations.

then my name was called at 5 am, & i jolted awake, and i replied.

i saw nobody, because i was alone in the first place. then i went & had bath, after that i decided to try the dish again, & lo & behold, there it emerged, the same smell, the the same taste, & the the same texture. i enjoyed it a lot.

i tried making it again a few days later, again i was able to make it the same great taste.

its now been 6 times that i made the dish successfully to my memory of the cafe, & thats what scares me .

many people have told me that if someone you do not know calls out to you in dreams you should not answer, its like you die in the dream but you dont know about it.

i dont know what is real or am in a dream anymore.

"'Tis better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all."
--Alfred Lord Tennyson

What a wonderfully lovely, tragic tale. So sad and yet . . .