(untitled) Login to Kupika  or  Create a new account 

This diary entry is written by Sonnys_baby. ( View all entries )
Previous entry: One scary way to break up!!! in category (general)

(untitled)Category: (general)
Wednesday, 30 July 2008
04:06:08 PM (GMT)
">Six minutes to six said the clock over the information booth in New York's
Grand Central Station. The tall, young army officer lifted his sunburned face and
narrowed eyes to note the exact time. His heart was pounding with a beat that shocked
him. In 6 minutes, he would see the woman who had filled such a special place in his
life for the past 13 months, the woman he never seen, yet whose written words had
been with him and sustained him unfailingly. 

Lt. Blandford remembered one day in particular, the worst of the fighting, when his
plane had been caught in the midst of the pack of enemy planes.

In one of his letters, he had confessed to her that he often felt fear, and only a
few days before this battle, he had received her answer: "Of course you feel
fear...all brave men do. Next time you doubt yourself, i want you to hear my voice
reciting to you: 'Yea though i walk through the valley of the shadows of death, I
shall fear no evil, for thou art with me."' He had remembered; and it had renewed his

Now he was going to hear her real voice. 4 minutes to 6.

A girl passed close to him, and Lt. Blandford started. She was wearing a flower, but
it was not the little read rose they had agreed upon.

His mind went back to the book he had read in the training camp. Of Human Bondage, it
was; and throughout the book were notes in a woman's writing. he had never believed
that a woman could see into a mans heart so tenderly, so understandingly. Her name on
the bookplate: Hollis Meynell. He had got hold of a New York City telephone book and
found her address. He written, she had answered. The next day he had been shipped
out, but they gone on writing. For 13 months. She had faithfully replied. When his
letter did not arrive she wrote anyway, and now he believed he loved her, and she
loved him.

But she had refused all his pleas to send him her photograph. She had explained: "If
your feelings for me has any reality, what I look like wont matter. Suppose I'm
beautiful. I'd always fear that you were taking a chance on just that, and that kind
of love would disgust me. Suppose I'm plain (and you must admit that this is more
likely), then Id always fear that you were going on writing to me only because you
were lonely and had no one else. No, don't ask for my picture. When you come to New
York, you shall see me and then you make your decision."

One minute to six... he flipped the pages of the book he held. Lt. Bladford's heart

A young woman was coming toward him. Her figure was long and slim; her blonde hair
lay back in curls from her delicate ears. Her eyes were blue as flowers, her lips and
chin had gentle firmness. In her pale green suit, was like springtime come alive.

He started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was weary no rose, and
as he moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.

"Going my way, soldier?" she murmured.

Uncontrollably, he made one step closer to her. Than he saw Hollis Meynell.

She was standing almost directly behind the girl, a woman well past her 40, her
graying hair tucked under a work hat. she was more than plump; her thick-ankled feet
were thrust into low-heeled shoes. But she wore a red rose on her rumpled coat. The
girl in the green suit was walking quickly away. 

Blanford felt as though he were split in two, so knee was his desire to follow the
girl, yet so deep was his longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned
and upheld his own; and there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and
sensible; her gray eyes had warm twinkle. Lt. Blandfort did not hesitate. His fingers
gripped the small worn, blue leather copy of Of Human Bondage, which was to identify
him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, a friendship
for which he had been and must ever be grateful.

He squared his shoulders, saluted, and held the book out toward the woman. Although
even while he spoke he felt the bitterness of his disappointment.

"I'm Lt. Blandford, and you- Miss Meynell. Im so glad you could meet me- may i take
you to dinner?"

The woman's face broadened in a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is about
son," she answered. "That young lady in the green suit begged me to wear this rose on
my coat. And said that if you asked me to go out with you, I should tell you she's
waiting for you in that restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of

Be the first to comment:

Related Entries
‹silhouette♥dreɑmer›: finish the sentence
‹***!BICURIOUS PURPLE!***›: DEATH HIMSELF(poem) sad poems but its da truth
‹✖[[AntisocialButterfly]]✖›: My Phobias RANDOM SHIZ
‹♥MoChAcInO.bUzZ♥›: Lonely.
‹defineMANIAC›: Just something. A rant, maybe? Random Writing

About Kupika    Contact    FAQs    Terms of Service    Privacy Policy    Online Safety
Copyright © 2005-2012