The song: a short story
After dinner he felt so happy that he went into the other room and wrote a song, full of small words of simple gladness. When it was finished he brought it to her and said, Look, I wrote you a song.
She said, All this time you were so silent, I thought you must be mad at me, I thought you must be brooding, I thought you no longer loved me, I thought you were all alone, I thought you might be thinking of someone else.
He said, But I only think of you.
When she sat down to read the song, she was silent a long time while her heart within her grew glad and boundless as the heart of a child.
Watching her carefully from the corner of his eye, he wondered if it was his fault that she had suddenly grown so quiet, so sullen and so subdued, if he had done something to offend her, if she still loved him, if she had ever really loved him, if she was thinking of somebody else, if she was all alone in her thoughts, alone beside him in the pale lamplight with the song of his heart in her hands.
5 Comments:
beautiful and oh so true...
Beautiful, twisting surprise. Today I dropped my son off at my ex-wife's and she got mad at me for something in her life that I don't know about and I got all quiet inside, and curious, like I sometimes do. She said, "It's not like we're living this crazy, evil life of sin over here!" and I blinked silently at her and thought how little we ever know of the hurt that sits inside another.
Very fine stories, you to Josh, Obliged. (now to get them down to 6 words like Sherman Alexis' 6 word story project, i.e. Murder-suicide 'I followed her to his house.')
All that brimming! Each face reminded me of what is just below the surface of the icon - inscrutable at one level, a reflection of the one who stands before it, all along with a hidden depth & fullness. Beautiful, Ben, and so resonant.
Written by Ben
With a silver fountain pen
Words of reconciliation
Welcomed by Ms. Conciliation
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