Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Short Story

Disclaimer - The following story is not an original but was taken from a mail I received. However I do not have the mail with me, so I have reproduced it in my own words as best as I could.

He was 20 and terminally ill. They said he had only weeks to live, maybe just days. Every morning, he gave thanks to the Lord for the sight of another sunrise. It could just be his last.
No use remaining cooped up in bed, the doctors told him. He was in a great deal of pain, and the soporific pain-killers kept him somnolent for a large part of the day. However, he started to go for a stroll in the park every evening. The sights he saw were the same as he'd seen a hundred times before; but they seemed so different.
One evening as he was returning from the park, he happened to glance into a music store he was passing. There his eyes fell upon the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He entered.
Her sparkling eyes met his wonder-filled ones. Her luscious lips parted into the semblance of a smile. He hurried away to the racks of CD's and lost himself in them. He spent a half hour searching though the CD's and then picked one up at random.
He walked over to the counter. There were those eyes again.
"How can I help you?" - Kind.
"I'd like to buy this CD, please." - Timid.
"Sure thing." - Friendly.
She took the CD, disappeared into the recesses of the store and returned a minute later holding the parcel in her hand. He paid and left, too shy to do anything more.
He got home and placed the CD in his drawer. Unopened. He thought of her. Why hadn't he said something? Why hadn't he asked her out? It wasn't like him at all. He could think of little else for the rest of the night. The next morning he made up his mind. He was going to ask her out that evening. Come what may.
He went for his routine stroll and on the way back stopped at the store again. One look at those eyes though, and his courage melted away. He disappeared amidst the racks again.
The script followed the previous day's - he selected a CD, handed it to her, she packed it, took his cash, gave him the receipt, he left. Failed again. Was it the smile? Were it the eyes? He didn't know.
He placed this CD on top of the old one in the drawer. Again unopened. He wanted to tell her he liked her. Tell her he wanted to ask her out. But something had stopped him. Was he scared? He didn't know. "Tomorrow evening fer sure," he thought.
Three weeks passed. The same play was staged every day without fail. The same actors, the same script. Nothing changed. The pile of CD's in his drawer grew steadily. There they lay - all new and unopened.
Finally the day arrived. One moring, he failed to wake up. It had happened. There would be no more sunrises for him; no more strolls, no more beautiful sales-girls and no more chances to ask them out. No oppurtunity to tell someone he loved her.
The day after the funeral, his Mom was cleaning up his room. She opened the drawer and found the stack of CD's lying inside. All new; none opened. She tore the plastic of the top one and opened it. There was a note inside. She read it and opened the second case. Another note. She opened all of them. Every one had a note; every note said the same thing -
"Hey! I really like you. Would you like to maybe go out sometime? Please let me know if you do.


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