Amber
He was on his ride home from work. Rain was pounding against the windows and the bus was crowded with people. He sat in one of the seats in the far back, his gaze fixed upon the other passengers. He watched the business man, whose cell phone was constantly ringing; the two giggling school girls that were sticking their heads together and the annoyed looking mother, who was trying to stop her child from crying. An elderly lady with a large brown hat and plenty of groceries was pushing her way through the packed aisle, jostling against all kinds of people with her bags, getting people even more wet.
Letting out a small sigh he leaned against the cold glass of the window and closed his eyes. Work had been awful. But the emptiness that awaited him at home wasn’t much better. The image of the boxes in the hallway of his apartment came to his mind. For months now they’d been standing there. Collecting dust, reminding him every time he passed, that she was gone.
He sat up and opened his eyes. Then slightly shaking his head, just as if he was trying to shake those dark thoughts away, he turned to look out the window.
The bus came to a halt at the next stop. A couple people, among them the two school girls, descended and a few other people started getting on: A tall wet-looking guy with earphones; an old man with a worn-out, dark coat and a walking stick and… He froze.
A short woman in a red trench coat had just entered. Water was dripping from the long, dark curls, that reached over her shoulder and the big, black umbrella in her hand was also drenched in rain.
Even though he wasn’t able to make out her face the memories and with them the pain came back so clearly, that he had to draw a few deep breaths just to stay sane.
She looked just like her. The hair, the coat (How she’d loved her trench coat…), even the way she moved, everything brought the woman he had so hard tried to forget right back to his mind.
Amber. His girl. He couldn’t think of a thing he didn’t love about her. Her true brown eyes, her laughter that was like music in his ears… How much he missed her. The sound of her name alone had used to bring a smile to his face. Still did, but nowadays there was no happiness in it. Her voice had been like warm milk and honey and even on the coldest winter days it had felt like a warm summer breeze was stroking your skin, when she spoke.
He closed his eyes and it felt like she was right there, right next to him, just about to start humming one of her silly little songs. Amber.Why? Why did you have to leave?
He leaned against the window. Raindrops were running across it on the outside. Amber had loved days like this one. She’d always taken his hand and dragged him outside to go for a walk in the rain with her. How she’d smiled, every time she’d convinced him to come along. Her smile. She’d become more and more like that smile over the last couple of months. So sweet and frail. Just like glass.
What had he done wrong? How he still wondered… He could have known. He should have known.
Amber.
The last time he‘d seen her had been in July. Tears shot to his eyes, when he thought of the moment they’d said good-bye. He’d never dared to believe it was for good.
She’d been so weak and tired, lying in that white hospital bed. Wrapped in white blankets, the humming of machines in her ears at all times, always reminding her of where she was. He’d brought her her favorite flowers and put them in a small vase beside her bed. Lilies.
As he’d bent down to kiss her good-bye she’d whispered something in his ear. Dave?, she’d whispered. Promise me something? Be happy. Be happy, David.
I promise, Amber, I promise, he whispered softly, tears running down his face. And looking back down the aisle of the crowded bus he noticed, that the woman in the red trench coat was no longer there.
I promise, Amber, I’ll be happy. Tomorrow.
[Note: this has been spooking around in my head for quite some time, but I fear it's gotten a little too corny... Has it?]
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