Dancing with my darling
By Jing Villamil
THIS story was passed down three generations.
She did not know what woke her. It must have been the whoosh of the wind from the open windows, the swishing of the silk curtains, or just old floors creaking. Whatever . . . from the depth of sleep she stirred. Ice from her cold shoulders crept down her spine to the tips of her fingers, her toes.
She shivered. She opened her eyes. Ah, there. She looked up to his face, so dear, so much love overflowing. He had watched over her, through the night, through her deep dreamless sleep! She felt water drop unto her face. My darling, are those tears for me? He did not reply. He just clasped both her hands. He pulled her up gently. He let her head lean limply on his shoulder while he gently wrapped one arm around her. He squeezed her tight to his heart she found it hard to breathe!
Then, he hummed, quivery at first, the notes of a waltz, their waltz, from a long time past. Remembering, she squirmed her body that she might lean back and look into his eyes. They began to dance. Slowly. Sweetly. Waltz after waltz after waltz.
After sometime, he stopped before a full-length, gilded, curliqued mirror which they had bought together, and had brought into this very room. They had leaned it on this wall for best light. The poor soul must have tired with all that humming, whirling and side-stepping furniture, she thought. I only had to follow his lead. And most times he carried me all the way to the end of the notes! He had closed his eyes.
She touched the moist glint of the passage of tears down his cheeks. She brought her fingers to her lips to kiss. And caught a glimpse of the pair of them in the mirror. She saw his arm raised to clasp a long white sleeve, the other hand wrapped around her wedding dress in a tight squeeze.
Then she saw. She was not in the mirror. In his arms was just that, her white wedding dress empty of her. She looked down. Of course, she too was not there. She opened her mouth wide. She screeched.
It was the loudest, longest, saddest soundless scream ever.
Share your Comments or Reactions
Powered by Facebook Comments