Seasons

It was winter of ----.

She was done with her work for that day. She closed her eyes for a minute deep in thought. 

Then she opened her eyes & looked out the window. It was snowing. She wasn't burnt by the 

cold due to the confines of her office cabin. This was a perfect theme to her life at present, 

she thought to herself. 

'Would it be as cold in heaven too?' she smiled a smile that couldn't even remotely be traced 

to any kind of emotion- pain or happiness. She smiled a vacuous smile. But this emptiness 

was not one of peace or dread or shock. She simply went through the motions demanded of 

her by her daily routine. Like a machine with definite instructions but with a battery charged 

up to render 24/7. It was neither insanity nor desperation. 

She once wondered what mental state she was in currenyly as this state was alien to her 

past record. Yet she didn't care enough to scrutinize herself or her mental health; she had 

stopped caring for herself.  

She glared at a photo frame placed on her desk & then shifted her gaze towards the antique 

wall clock. It was 11 p.m.. She realized she had worked overtime today. Just like she did 

yesterday. Like the day before. And ever since she'd turned into a workaholic. She walked 

out of her cabin & locked it. 

She'd been noticed by her employees of their departure as & when they left; the last to 

depart was at 8.30 p.m.. She'd been shouldering a portion of their work these days. Which 

was so unlike her old self that it made them wonder. But they could only wonder; they dared 

not attempt to take a step further & break the ice she'd build around herself of her personal 

life. 

The office was on the 11th floor of a residential complex. She entered into the elevator of 

that flr & pressed -1. Still a machine, she was one with the machines around her. Her eyes 

still blank as the numbers flickered by. 10. 9. 5. 2. 0. The basement. She headed for her car. 

She reached for the keys when she realized she'd forgotten them on her desk. Still no 

slightest hint of irritation or tiredness reflected from her. Going back to her office to fetch the 

keys was simply a matter of going through a new set of motions for her. 

She turned on the lights. The office looked just the way it did when she had left it a while 

ago. Had anyone even attempted to get into, she'd be immediately notified with a message. 

The security cameras & the censors were always on 24/7. This measure was taken since the 

first & the last time an outsider-a rival's agent- messed around in the office. Theirs was not 

an ordinary business but one that dealt in sensitive matters.

She unlocked her cabin door by swapping her ID card through the slot of the identifier. Her 

door stood opened. It was at this point that she showed any sign of emotion since the past 3 

months of her life. The emotion is named shock, in this case, an effect of her noticing the 

lights being turned on while she was sure as hell she'd turned them off before she left. The 

keys were on the desk beside which lay a piece of paper with a rose on it. The paper was 

signed "With love". When she flipped over the paper, she read the 4 most beautiful lines 

written by the one ever so dear. A drop or 2 rolled down her cheeks and at that moment she 

was sure that her cold heart was warmer now. She looked out the window & wondered how 

the snow that had settled on the frame was now turning into dew. Again, a co-incidental 

theme, thought she. Was it her heart that was melting it? 

..

She decided to take a drive to a place they called "theirs" which was just a few kms away. It 

was a deserted area and a humble bridge across a lonely stream now frozen into ice. She 

was back into those days when they'd stand close together with their fingers intertwined into 

a eternal bond as they looked into each others' eyes & then at the stream realizing it really 

wasn't that lonely but was in fact a flow of their love. And it now stood a stretch of ice frozen 

like a mirror glass into the past. Was nature imitating this phase of her life or was it the other 

way around? 

The memory of it was ephemeral but the bond, she found her solace in affirming, remains 

eternal. What is temporal is this season. What transcends time is love. Winter would go. 

Summer will be ushered in. The ice would melt into the gushing stream of vitality & love once 

again. Time would arrange for the re-union of the two souls. In a better place, this time. 

"Death", she'd read somewhere, "is nothing but longing for love is everything".        

Author's Note

Unedited. Pardon.

Reviews

[DeliriousCerises]

I really liked it, how you tied in the weather to her heart, well done. I didn't entirely realize that's what you were doing until the note. The frozen stream was brilliant. When you're heart has been hurt, it does feel like you ability to love is frozen in time, like ice. And like the ice melting in spring, time heals all wounds. Beautiful, well done. Conceptually this is solid, the only thing I can say that might improve it would indeed be editing, but you already know that.

[Daniel DeLorez]

Wonderful. :) That's all I can say.