This is just a short story I had written about two years ago when I was about fourteen. Let me know what you think, I’d love any feedback (:
The Unbreakable Vow.
The old man arrived at the poorly lit Coffee Shop as always, at 7AM on the dot and took his customary seat in the last cubicle on the left in the corner; right next to the hat-stand as he sipped his usual coffee-a double cappuccino. He read the morning paper with a frown on his face, muttering to himself as he turned the pages. His wrinkled skin looked like crumpled tissue paper and his brow was, as always knit together as though he was constantly in deep thought. As he folded up his paper, he took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the freshly ground coffee and listened to the symphony of the coffee-machines at work. He sat there, from dawn to dusk, watching the people come and go, listened to the amiable talks of the customers and the occasional argumentative conversations of the businessmen. But all these noises fell on deaf ears. His eyes saw but didn’t register the people entering and existing the café. His gaze never shifted from the door. He had eyes only for one person. He knew she would come, she had promised. And he was yet to see her break her word. He would wait for her, right there, in the coffee shop right off the corner of Broadway Street, right there in the last cubicle on the left in the corner, right next to the hat stand, sitting in the same spot where they had first met, first fallen in love, first kissed. This was the spot where he had first asked her to be his and his only, to be his to love and care for, to provide and protect, for her to be his wife. And when she had accepted his proposal with glittering, tear-filled eyes, this was the spot where he had experienced for the first time complete happiness and contentment. It was on this spot where he realized that he didn’t need anything else, not wealth, not fame, nothing else but her. His heart yearned for no materialistic pleasures, he had no love for them, and he never had had. He remembered how he felt in her arms, as he inhaled her sweet, tantalizing smell of lavender and how he felt an air of serenity and tranquility overcome him and how he felt himself lost in her embrace. He remembered the heartrending day when she came running into the coffee shop, her face red and blotchy and her golden hair streaming behind her, her red-streak marked hands covering her face. Sobbing inconsolably, she told him about her father’s response when she had finally gathered up the courage to tell him she was engaged. He has always known that her father didn’t approve of him put he had never thought that he would take such drastic measures. That was the last time he had seen her before her father had her shipped away to England to live with her aunts. That was the day she had promised him she would come back for him and they would be reunited, right there in that café. A sudden clattering sound as the mountain of trays came crashing down onto the clumsy waiter jerked him back from his voyage down memory lane and wiping a tear which had rolled half-way down his cheek in a rough, hasty motion he once again turned his attention to the front door. Nothing. The sun set and another day came to pass but his hopes didn’t die and his belief didn’t falter. He had her word and that was enough.
The next morning he awoke with the sun. The day was clear and not a cloud was to be seen in the resplendently azure sky. The birds’ song seemed to rekindle the dying spark in the old man’s heart which now raged like an inferno within him, warming him from head to toe. He smiled for the first time in years. As the bell above door tinkered as he entered the Coffee Shop, he was hit with a scent that he had almost forgotten. It was the only scent that could set off a raging lust deep inside his heart. It was the smell of lavender. He lifted his eyes and with bated breath, raised his gaze toward the last cubicle and saw that it was already occupied. A woman sat there alone with her back to the door, her fingers nervously intertwined over her coffee mug as if she were waiting for someone. And then, as though she sensed his presence, she suddenly went completely still. Then she turned around and her eyes fell upon him. He wordlessly made his way through the café and came to stand in front of her and though his heart was singing praise to the heavens at the top of its voice, he found himself tongue-tied. There were no words to describe this moment. And such they stood for a whole minute, neither of them wanting to say a word lest it destroy this perfect moment. At last, they old man found his voice. “You came,” he managed to croak, is voice full of pent-up emotion. She looked at him with eyes full of love and longing and said in a voice that thrilled every fiber in his body, “I gave you my word, didn’t I?