Sherms Sunday Scribbles

Today I felt like writing and not about my life and thoughts like usually, today I felt like writing creatively. And I thought who better to read my scribbles than the strangers who I have come to know and love. So please read and comment nicely/harshly, whatever! xx

 

The liveliness of the banquet hall faded as she followed him to the exit. The alcohol made her head swim a little but numbed her to the chill of the night air as they left the hotel. They wandered arm in arm to the parking lot, the gravel crunching beneath their feet. He stopped on the corner and reached inside his jacket for his cigarettes. He removed two and handed one to her, staring curiously as she placed it between her lips. Her hair was dishevelled and there was a run in her tights that ended somewhere he could not see.

He struck a match and lit her cigarette before doing the same with his own. She tipped her head back and inhaled deeply.

“You know, I’m not supposed to smoke. You’re a bad influence on me” the mischievous look on her face reminded him of how they used to be.

“Why not?”

“Don’t you know, cancer kills!”

He laughed “we’re all going to die sometime. It’s what you do with the time you have that matters. You only have one life to live, might as well get all the pleasure we can”

“See now that is where you and I differ. I know that there’s an afterlife.” She watched the slow smile spread across his face and his eyes light up at the challenge of theology.

“You should have told me, I would have gone”

Her eyebrows furrowed; “Gone where?”

“To your funeral of course, I mean the only way to know if there is an afterlife is to experience death. I would have gone, might even have shed a tear”

“As if, you’re always mean to me”

“What are you talking about? I just gave you a cigarette”

“You mean a cancer stick. See, you dislike me so much you’re trying to kill me”

“I would never hurt you, you know I love you” Her eyes met his for the briefest moment and she was confused by what she saw. He turned away “how’s your husband?” His tone was casual but his body rigid. Had she imagine something she wanted to see? She needed to see his face to be sure, his eyes. Then she would know for certain, but what difference would it make.

“You know his name, you’ve met him before. Why do you always call him ‘my husband’?”

“Because he is, isn’t he?” He took a sip of his whiskey and enjoyed the warmth of the liquid as it trickled down his throat. He swirled the ice in his class, watching as she went to sit on a bench by the hotel entrance. He followed and sat beside her.

“This bench is for Sylvia” she traced her fingers over the brass plate as she read, “For Sylvia, who was by my side at the beginning. Not even death can put an end to our love. John.” A knowing smile spread across her face, he turned away and stared down at the ring on her finger. The reminder of why he would always be burdened with the question of What If?

“That’s pretty romantic don’t you think? The fact that two people can love each other forever, through the highs and lows, not even death can separate them. I hope it’s like that for me and Jeremy.”

“You don’t think it will be?”

She hesitated and though she attempted for her laugh to be carefree he knew her too well not to recognise her nerves. “I don’t know. I hope. We’ve already been through so much and we’re still standing. I have faith. But I don’t expect you to understand. I know you don’t believe in marriage and happily ever after”

“What makes you think that? Of course, I believe that marriage exits, it’s just that I’m not yet convinced it’s for me”.