A Soldier’s Love

She wanted to know the reason of his presence all around, even when he was cities apart. She waited all-day; longer than she ever looked out of the window with a desire to see him. Roofs, Windows, Doors… Her home had three different houses to wait for him; one at a time. But he never showed up. “Yet he would come.” She thought. Every footstep she heard, she silently wished it was him. And one day he would return.

Every page she flipped, she read a story that belonged to him. He had a diary of poetry for her. He left it under her pillow last night. His absence would narrate poems for her. She smiled on every poetic end, believing him sitting next to her. She smelled him in each page. That dairy was her vade mecum. Her eyes never felt tired reading them. She still believed his presence.

Many taunted her for the love she lost. A few sympathized for that. But all alone, a jacket engulfed her with a mystical fragrance he always carried. She did not pay heed to what people said. For her, he was a beautiful soul and it was for him, that her eyes always remained glued to the door.

Across the cities, in the dark, he was battling for life. Under the feral bed of hatred, her memories kept him alive. Each day spent without her, was no less than misery. But he was a soldier, who was fighting for himself, for her, and for their love. “Let the night be alone”, he thought, for he had planned an escape. Behind tents of silence and wounds, he would not be caught. All he had to do was finish his job.

“Careful!” She said. He climbed the window to have a glimpse of her.  Moist eyes could not see him clearly, but he was there. His caress on lips felt her deep breath. Lifting her chin up, he read her soul, and she felt the scars on his lips. Only if this was not a dream, she could relive those poetry he wrote for her. His words, like those coming from a broken soul at war, yet a hero to her. Alas, she could only wish, if it wasn’t a dream.

Note: This is again a Fiction. I tried to convey the life of a soldier’s wife. One of Writer and Blogger friend RjMist helped me to write this Short Story.


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