Friday, January 21, 2011

Flight of the angels

Her moments of nostalgia came when she least expected them; a sentiment from a movie; a piece of music.

She could feel his arms around her, holding her; giving her some of his strength; enough, he hoped to last her her lifetime.

She retrieved the letter; looked again at his handwriting and affection flooded her mind; warmed her heart; released the tears.

“Think noble thoughts,” he had written. And, she did.

She remembered him and his warmth for her; his belief in her; his ability to look at her and see her as perfect enough – genuine, honest, devoted; pure of heart.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she had cried one day. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“You are only human,” he replied.

And another day, “Remember me fondly.”

She did. When she needed it most she felt his arms envelop her, as she did right now.

The angels had released him long enough for him to return to her fleetingly and remind her once again that she was always very much loved.

4 comments:

  1. A very sad story, dear Vesta. I wish he would come back for you.

    PL

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  2. lovely yet sad

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  3. Very lovely and heart rending. Of whom do you write?

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  4. Thank you gentlemen: As the Discerning Dom once wrote, some writing on the blog is non-fiction and some writing is fiction. I agree with him that it is not particularly important that the reader know which is which. But, I do hope that you enjoy it, either way.

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