-- white shirt and blue sweater--
It was a nice soothing melody. Maybe it was a composition by Beethoven, Mozart, or Mendelssohn. Whoever the composer was, she did not care. She knew it was him playing his violin. She did not know what concerto, or sonata, or whatever the term was. In fact, she didn’t even know how to play any musical instruments. How pathetic she thought. She looked at the watch hanging on the wall, then looked outside the window from her bookstore, and then looked back at the watch. Another four minutes and he will be out from the hall.
Four minutes later, she smiled to herself, as she saw a man with a white shirt and blue sweater coming out from the hall. She kept starring at him, watching his every single gesture, the way he held his violin case, the way he looked at the shining sun, the weird way when he talked to himself and suddenly laughed, until he walked away out from her view. She did that for almost every Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday for almost every week. Yes, the man will only and only wore his white shirt and blue sweater, just that with different tones. She wondered how many white shirts and blue sweater the man had. There were some days which he didn’t attend his practice routine at the hall. May be he was sick or something. She didn’t even know even tough she desperately wanted to know why.
Yesterday, he visited her store and looked over some of the books at the political science section, then he moved on to the music section and finally he bought a book. Surprisingly it was not a musical book, or a manuscript but a self-motivation book. She hoped she that could start a real conversation with him but she was shy to death. All she could say was,
“Thank you Sir, please come again”, and that was it.
She knew she had to do it. She knew that she was at the aisle walking towards her future husband, a decent, good looking gentleman who was patiently waiting for her in front. The man whom she accepted his proposal a month ago. It was either right now or she might lose the chance forever. The chance that she would never be able to grab back after she vow the oath.
“Frederick, I am sorry…I am terribly sorry, but I really have to go,”
“Well, hurry up then, you might not want to miss him,”
He smiled, a sad but relief smile it was. Sad, happy, everything was mixed up but he knew it was the best decision to let her go, he thought. He sent her off with his gaze and wishing her luck in her love life or perhaps wishing his own luck in his love life instead.
Strange, the bright blue sky turned into grey. The wind suddenly blew quite harsh, together with the heavy droplets of rain. She was running in her cream, heavy, Victorian style wedding gown with a pair of half inch heels. Her make up started to wash away with the rain. Her brunette shoulder length hair still in the bun, with the cream ribbon that was still tying the bun, but it wasn’t as neat as before. She kept on running, searching for the guy with the white shirt and navy blue or baby blue or whatever tones as long as it is a blue sweater but he was nowhere to be found. She stopped and looked around, tried catching some breathe, and continued running and searching.
She stopped again. Just about the junction. It was the guy, but he was no more in his white shirt and blue sweater but in an elegant black tuxedo with blue bow tie instead. He stood there staring at her as she running towards him and stop right in front of him.
,
“Hi, I am Emily, Emily Parker. And you…you must be Edward Smith,” she introduced herself.
“I am,” he answered back and smiled, sweetened by his friendly looking gesture.
And it all started.
Four minutes later, she smiled to herself, as she saw a man with a white shirt and blue sweater coming out from the hall. She kept starring at him, watching his every single gesture, the way he held his violin case, the way he looked at the shining sun, the weird way when he talked to himself and suddenly laughed, until he walked away out from her view. She did that for almost every Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday for almost every week. Yes, the man will only and only wore his white shirt and blue sweater, just that with different tones. She wondered how many white shirts and blue sweater the man had. There were some days which he didn’t attend his practice routine at the hall. May be he was sick or something. She didn’t even know even tough she desperately wanted to know why.
Yesterday, he visited her store and looked over some of the books at the political science section, then he moved on to the music section and finally he bought a book. Surprisingly it was not a musical book, or a manuscript but a self-motivation book. She hoped she that could start a real conversation with him but she was shy to death. All she could say was,
“Thank you Sir, please come again”, and that was it.
She knew she had to do it. She knew that she was at the aisle walking towards her future husband, a decent, good looking gentleman who was patiently waiting for her in front. The man whom she accepted his proposal a month ago. It was either right now or she might lose the chance forever. The chance that she would never be able to grab back after she vow the oath.
“Frederick, I am sorry…I am terribly sorry, but I really have to go,”
“Well, hurry up then, you might not want to miss him,”
He smiled, a sad but relief smile it was. Sad, happy, everything was mixed up but he knew it was the best decision to let her go, he thought. He sent her off with his gaze and wishing her luck in her love life or perhaps wishing his own luck in his love life instead.
Strange, the bright blue sky turned into grey. The wind suddenly blew quite harsh, together with the heavy droplets of rain. She was running in her cream, heavy, Victorian style wedding gown with a pair of half inch heels. Her make up started to wash away with the rain. Her brunette shoulder length hair still in the bun, with the cream ribbon that was still tying the bun, but it wasn’t as neat as before. She kept on running, searching for the guy with the white shirt and navy blue or baby blue or whatever tones as long as it is a blue sweater but he was nowhere to be found. She stopped and looked around, tried catching some breathe, and continued running and searching.
She stopped again. Just about the junction. It was the guy, but he was no more in his white shirt and blue sweater but in an elegant black tuxedo with blue bow tie instead. He stood there staring at her as she running towards him and stop right in front of him.
,
“Hi, I am Emily, Emily Parker. And you…you must be Edward Smith,” she introduced herself.
“I am,” he answered back and smiled, sweetened by his friendly looking gesture.
And it all started.
--end--
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