Saturday, February 5, 2011

David

I remembered someone had once told me that death is lighter than a feather, and I will deny all knowledge of it.



At 3:45 in the morning, I awake from a dream. Suffering from sleeplessness, I see in the bathroom mirror, dark circles around my eyes brought on by the wrath of insomnia. The noise should have faded by now if only I could forget. I had stepped into a world where time stopped, and where joy ceased to exist.

I quietly slip under the covers again and move closer to my husband, which is how I like to remind myself that I am not alone, the curve of his body molding comfortably with mine. “The same dream?” His voice is soft in the night. He takes my scarred hand in his and brings it to his face. A silence between us grows warmer with each moment soon turns to whispers. I drift back to sleep. Later that night, I am again in my dream and again awakened by the loud bang.

I look up dazed and see that one of the balconies that had been over the toy store is lying smashed in the street. Glass windows are gone and all that remain is the metal grill which once held it up. Surrounded by the wall of terror the explosion induced, I realize death had spared me for the moment.

As in a dream, I move closer to the voice. He is young, perhaps in his early twenties. I kneel next to him trying to shake off my need for tears. Beads of sweat form on his forehead and his eyes glaze over with pain. He weeps. My heart fills with sorrow.

“What is your name?”

“David.”

I once read somewhere that our names contain our fates, and then wonder if David is a victim of his title. Blood trickls from his mouth, down to his throat and his legs are shredded above his knees. My heart begins to bulge, overfull with pity and sadness. He is shivering. I take his hand in mine and cover his body with mine. Our blood intermingles. It feels warm and sticky. My heart is beating frantically against his fading life and time ceases to exist until I feel a hand on my shoulder. “He is dead.”

I get up before dawn, sit in the living room with a blanket wrapped around myself, and feel emptiness, the kind that doesn’t stuff silence with words, the kind that looks at you straight in the face with a challenge.

“Let’s go for a walk.” I hear my husband’s voice.
Hands entwined, our moon shadows follow us side by side on the road.



18 comments:

Claudia Del Balso said...

OMG! Henya, was this a dream? Or is this an excerpt from your WIP? in either case, you've given such an amazing description. So what happened next?

Henya said...

Claudia, it is part of a "bigger" story. I edited out most of it, remaining with the essence of the story. But I'm glad this story left you wanting more. Thanks so much for reading.
:)

Elizabeth Varadan aka Mrs. Seraphina said...

Like Claudia, I wondered if this was a vivid dream (yet described so well!) or part of a WIP. Powerful writing. I was right there! Is your bigger story a long short story or a novella?

Henya said...

Elizabeth, this is a short story. I'm actually working on my second novel. There are times I need to get away from it, so I write other stuff.

Cher'ley said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Rachna Chhabria said...

Hi Henya..loved this post. I am guessing that it was an excerpt from your WIP. Its making me eager to read the rest of it. If it was a dream, then it was an extremely vivid one.

Thanks for the follow and the tweet. Please post the award on your sidebar and pass it on.

Cher'ley said...

That was interesting. What a dream!

Henya said...

Rachna, thanks for the reading eyes...

Cherley, once again: Thanks!

Matt Nord said...

Very cool. Excellent writing. And thanks for stopping by and checking out my blog, too!

Henya said...

My pleasure, Matt. Glad you stopped by.

Kaye Dacus said...

I'm so jealous of people who can write short stories. I've never been able to do it! This piece is captivating.

Henya said...

YOU are envious of ME?
I'm humbled.

WritingNut said...

Wow.. you had me hooked from the very first line! This was great... very descriptive :)

Henya said...

Now, that made me smile. See? :)

Elana Johnson said...

This is beautiful. I love the end where the husband gets up too. Beautiful.

Henya said...

Thanks, Elana, for taking the time to read me.

Lola Sharp said...

Haunting, lovely.

Henya said...

Thank you, Lola.
:)