literature

Our Last Christmas

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Literature Text

     An old man walked quietly through a brilliant castle. He looked at the chandeliers lit so nicely, and music played so softly. He was looking for his love, his beautiful dearest love. He knew it was late. He had just returned from his wars, but he had to see her. His dearest… Did she wait for him? Had she moved on? Perhaps in one of the many rooms he would find her resting on an old rocking chair. He stopped at a window and looked out. Fresh snow was falling on a cold Christmas day. He stood briefly watching it then moved along, his hand running along the cold brick wall as he walked on, until he found an odd trail of petals. He followed it quietly.
       
     He came to a door and slowly opened it. Inside was a room like any other within the castle. He noticed more petals leading to a window. He followed and when at the window a note laid there faded from age. His old calloused hand picked it up gingerly. He slowly read it aloud to himself.

     “My love… You have finally returned. How I longed for this day. I have missed you so. Shall we play a game, like so long ago? Follow the petals… And at the end, I shall be there… Waiting for you…” He set it down thinking of his love. She had waited for him after all.

      He walked out of the room finding another trail and followed. He noticed how ever these petals were of a darker shade. Slowly he came to his next destination; opening the door he found the ballroom. He walked over to the center and picked up the next note.
     
      “I remember when we danced to the sweetest of music. You always had a talent for dancing. I remember taking so much time to make sure I looked perfect. You would laugh at it, but always admire me as you had. Then the music would play and we danced. Oh, how I loved to dance with you. The day you left…well… I just couldn’t dance anymore, knowing you would not be at my side.”
       
      An old faint smile came to the man’s face remembering the dances they shared. He hoped that when he saw her they could dance again. Once more he left the room and followed his next trail. He wondered how many trails he would follow, but he knew he would follow a million trails if it meant seeing her once more.
     
      The next trail led him to the kitchen and he smiled at the fond memories that came to him. Once more he picked up the note that lay on the stove.

      “Oh, do you remember all the times we cooked in here. How much icing did we waste fighting with each other rather than decorating the cake? …It was so perfect then. Then the war came and…you had to go away. I missed cooking by your side, but…now that you’ve returned we can cook together again, right?”

      He left the room and many trails followed, with notes from her of old fond memories they had shared, he also noticed that with every trail the flowers would grow darker. He thought upon the old memories quietly remembering. Christmas day… The day they had met, they day they had wed, and…the day he left for war… So much had happened on this one day…so many years apart.

      He followed the path of now pure black petals until he came to an old familiar door. This…was their bedroom door. He smiled knowing she was inside. He walked into the room, but his smile faded finding no one inside. He walked over to the last note and as he read he understood and started to cry.

      “My love… How I have missed you so, but I fear I am not at the end of these notes. I wrote them a while back… I had never lost hope that you were coming home, but… The years they grew so long and the days unbearable… I waited as long as I could, but I knew my waiting would not be enough… So today I choose to write these for you so you can look back on our happy days… Please do not cry for I am always with you. For in your darkest dreams, in your loneliest nights, and on the days you just cannot fight… I will forever remain in your heart… I love you my dearest and I hope you forgive me for being gone when you arrive. But never forget that I love you…and my dearest Dorian… Merry Christmas… Signed your love, Rosemary”
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