2:00am:
Rosa Magdalina looked straight into her reflection in the golden lit mirror in front of her, she placed some crimson lipstick on with more intensity than necessary, the drying pink roses in the vase next to her softened the drama a touch, but I’m sure even they felt the intensity in her demeanor. She turned and left into the softly lit streets of Paris. Clutching her purse, in which lay a train ticket, a love note of the boy who would never know where she left to, a photo of a little girl, her sister, who now would be a fine young lady, probably married with children. Although Rosa would never know.
Rosa Magdalina looked straight into her reflection in the golden lit mirror in front of her, she placed some crimson lipstick on with more intensity than necessary, the drying pink roses in the vase next to her softened the drama a touch, but I’m sure even they felt the intensity in her demeanor. She turned and left into the softly lit streets of Paris. Clutching her purse, in which lay a train ticket, a love note of the boy who would never know where she left to, a photo of a little girl, her sister, who now would be a fine young lady, probably married with children. Although Rosa would never know.
Her heels make a soft clicking sound on the cobbled streets as she walks, it’s hauntingly quiet tonight, a tear stains her cheek. She clutches her purse tighter, turns down the street to the train station and never looks.
7:00am:
Andre awoke, the bed was cold, the room was quiet, a soft dampening, drowning panic hit when he saw a note in place of Rosa. He didn’t want to read it, he knew it would break his heart. That beautiful girl, with untold stories in her eyes, he knew she had left.
Andre awoke, the bed was cold, the room was quiet, a soft dampening, drowning panic hit when he saw a note in place of Rosa. He didn’t want to read it, he knew it would break his heart. That beautiful girl, with untold stories in her eyes, he knew she had left.
He felt the signs yesterday, she hadn’t said anything to let on. But there was an urgency in the way she kissed him… like it was a goodbye. There was a sadness in the way she had looked at him. And an unsettledness about her as they lay in bed... But he pushed that feeling away and fell asleep. Hoping he’d wake up and she would be normal, making pancakes in the kitchen, hot coffee already made…
But no. Nothing but empty silence.
He should have kissed her longer, told her how he loved her, held her in his arms and begged her to tell him her troubles...
But here he is; alone in the empty silence filled with unanswered questions.
He drank the half glass of red wine left on her nightstand. He sadly didn’t have the heart to convince himself that perhaps she’d return sometime… or ever. He knew all too well, a girl like Rosa, with so many untold stories in her eyes, wasn’t the type…
He places the note in a box of precious things. He’ll read it some other time, sometime in the future when the love they had shared was a distant memory, sometime in the future… but not today. Today he just wanted to forget, he didn’t want to think about it. He knew no matter what was in the note, he still would never have all his questions answered.
Years later:
Rosa looks out the horizon and smiles a sad nostalgic smile, thinking how different her life could have been if she stayed. She closes her eyes, feeling the soft wind blow away the moment.
Rosa looks out the horizon and smiles a sad nostalgic smile, thinking how different her life could have been if she stayed. She closes her eyes, feeling the soft wind blow away the moment.
Andre drinks the last of the champagne, thinking yet again about that beautiful, mysterious girl…
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