Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Snap (09/04/08)
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TITLE: Finding Love | Previous Challenge Entry
By Karuna Barla
09/11/08 -
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The sun grew hotter and the desert road winded lazily ahead. I looked out the window and my reflection looked back at me, somewhat surprised at my flagrant response to something I had secretly cherished for 15 years. To read a love letter filled with elegant endearing prose, was absolutely delightful, especially to a woman who has longed for love all her life. Billy boy, my heartthrob had married my neighbor and those hopeful years of awaiting his “more than a friend” smile had crashed suddenly. It was then, that this, one way romantic montage had begun.
I had no clue how he had found my name, my address or even my photograph, for he had once written a flawless description of me in wonderful poem. I was impressed by his literary genius but I felt insecure at the thought of having a stranger know so much about me. I pacified myself at the thought of having matters settled once and for all, with this visit I was making to him. Love, as he addressed himself, had finally sent me his address so I could reply if I wished, but I decided I would talk to him face to face and stop this nonsense.
What really made me angry, I don’t know. There was nothing hurtful Love had ever written to me or about me. All his letters were like soothing balm on my worn out, torn apart, broken heart. My folks had passed away a long time ago and I was so young I couldn’t even recollect their faces, when I felt like remembering them. I had no siblings either, who could at least remember them for me. Somehow, Love knew something about them too. He assured me of their love and told me they didn’t want to leave me with my uncle but he was the only next of kin we had.
Screech. The bus stopped and jolted me off my thoughts. I gathered the one hand-me-down suitcase I had and stepped out on the stony roadside. I looked around for someone to show me the way to go. A shop across the road seemed promising for enquiry and I whizzed right to it.
“Hey, Joanne.” I was stopped short.
“How do you know my name?” I retorted threateningly, for I knew no one in this town-not even in my hometown. I rarely frequented anywhere.
“Its me, Joe.”
Joe who, my mind raced to recall, but failed every time. For one, it kept getting distracted by this handsome guy, so desperately trying to get me to remember him. This was something that had never happened in my life before and I savored the moment.
“I hope you at least remember the incident about a young boy who was accused of stealing , by your uncle and deported to poor house.” he questioned. His big blue eyes staring right into me.
“No. I’m sorry,” I replied, disappointed with my memory devices.
“You were just 4 yrs old and you were the only one who believed, I was not guilty. You‘d defended me and gotten a whack for it too.”
I remembered the whack, but I couldn’t remember him. I wondered how he remembered me and even recognized me after so many years. Before I could ask, he offered to carry my suitcase and said I could stay at Betty’s place. A rich old lady who needed some help and company. It was then, I noticed a weird scar on his hand.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Oh nothing,” he said and pulled down his sleeves.
Did it really look like what I think it did? My emotions went from angry and defensive to joyful and possibly, love. I had discovered how he remembered me so well - bearing my engraved image in his hands. Love was found.
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