A Romantic Vision

Two Houses of Lilies

I walked the dry passage.
"You should not have just walked away" mother complained vaguely.

"I was bored. I did not walk away, I excused myself" I explained.

"He is perfect" mother uses this word too carelessly.

"If I felt so....to me He was fake" I judged.

"You tend to make your decisions on assumptions then prepare yourself to be alone" she expressed.

"Won't be a problem" I muttered to myself and speeded my way away from her.

She followed me but quietly.

We entered the kitchen.

"Laraib, there must be a preference" she started soon.

"There is, of course, there is" I stated, I exchanged the pan on the stove with a pot.

"And what is it?" She asked.

"I want someone I want to marry. I do not want someone I have to marry" I articulated.

"That is exactly why your father and I arrange these meetings for you. We want you to give your consent to the marriage" she spoke grabbing my arm.

"Yes... you said I could take my time" I stated softly adding the tea leaves to boiling water.

"Unfortunately we are running out of time. Before the news of your father's business spreads in the city we have to find you a good man" she stated.

"Well, to find me a good man mother you have to wait for it to spread to the city, in and out of the town," I said and with that, I took my tea and turned away.

Grandma said Marriage brings ease, ease?
This was appalling, turning dreadful day by day.

I ventured out into the garden.
My nose wrinkled with disappointment.

Someone was right when they said, all men are the same.

I looked over to the other mansion. It was gloomy and grotesque as ours was.

Their garden was yet prettier.
They had dandelions and lilies.
White flowers in a dark house.

There was stillness here.
However, I felt peace, no honking of cars, no smell of petrol, the unnecessary charging wires in every home and the chaos of a city home.

It was close to Grandfather's country home but weary in comparison.

I saw the sunset, the dullness of the orange hue blending its edges into the evils of violet, a half morning, a half night. Bearing the ever saddening prospect of incompleteness.

I returned to the kitchen to place the mug on the table and there I saw him again.
The man dressed shabbily stroking his arm.

"You! Who are you?" I asked abruptly.

He resumed to wiping the counter.

I was taken aback by the strangeness leaking from him.
I turned and called Mum, she was strolling in the passage.

"Mother, who is he?"

"He, He is the house helper. We recruited him this evening. He is trusted" she spoke calmly.

I watched him clean the counter and then turn to us.

He smiled. He is weirdly comfortable in himself.

"Darling explain to him how you would want the kitchen" mother stated and proceeded over.

"Good evening " he hummed it like a tune.
I could not meet his sight, I have forever found men uncomfortable to deal with.