"Okay," you paused, wondering if there was even a story you might know. "Oh, I have one."
And there you told me your story as I nodded every now and then between your breaths. "There was this sculptor. And he wants to make the most beautiful sculpture that no one has ever done before. Nothing like Michelangelo or Donatello. He wants to do something different. And so he decided to start this masterpiece. He prepared his chisel and . . ." your voice fell behind.
I persisted, "Mallet?"
"Yes, mallet. He also readied his marble stone and all. And it didn't only took weeks and months for him to finish it. It took him years. He built that his entire lifetime, since he really longs to make it perfect. After so many years of hard work and sweat, he was finally able to show it off."
"What did he name it?" I asked.
"Elixir."
"So, he made a good potion? He sculpted a bottle of what? A bottle of love potion? A healing potion perhaps?"
"No," you mumbled. You let your eyes land on me and said, "He sculpted his wife."
YOU ARE READING
Dalliance: Part II
Short StoryThis is not another heartbreak. This is not me crying over a guy who shattered me apart. This is me crying over a guy who I shattered myself. This is me crying over regrets, undecided choices, and the most nonsensical reasons for being apart from hi...
