Dark Palm

Inside the dark room, where our souls first met. Me and him, alone. There, our bodies spoke. There we kept our love hidden. When darkness covered the color of our skin, it revealed our darkest thoughts. There we shared hours inside each other.

<<You know.>> he said one day, looking at the palm of his hand thoughtfully.
<<What.>> I urged him to continue, still intoxicated by his sweet scent.
<<A mysterious woman read my palm.>>
<<Mysterious, I like it.>> I laughed playfully, gently taking his palm and looking at it.
<<You know what she told me.>> he continued to look at the palm with me.
<<What…>> I looked at him, puzzled by his blue eyes.
<<That my lifeline stops.>> he ran his index finger over his lifeline and stopped it in the middle of the palm. <<There, there is a gap.>> he pointed.
<<Yes.>> I replied poutingly.
<<For a while.>> he smiled. <<Then it continues.>> his pointer continued the line path that reappeared later.
<<What does that mean?>> I asked with a worried look.
<<I don’t know, it could mean a lot.>> he looked at me tenderly. <<I might fall into a coma.>> he laughed teasingly. I scowled more. <<Don’t worry, I’ll be back.>> he pushed my hair from my face with both of his palms, which fell in front of me to hide my fear and sadness.

Years passed, we got lost, and the secret was forgotten. No matter how much time has passed, he remained forever in my mind as a sweet memory, a sweet man. We both went on different paths. Now and then, we met by chance, and always our eyes lit up with the memory of those hours we spent together in the dark room, our conversations, and the attraction that neither of us forgot.

There came a tragic day when he met the prophecy of the mysterious woman. He reached the limit, the middle of the line in his palm. An accident sent him into a coma. He closed his eyes in silence. The revelation of that distant evening has not left my mind. The possibility that reached my ears and was buried in my subconscious sprung up, and I began to pray and shout the phrase he said <<Don’t worry, I’ll be back.>> I held on to the hopeful words, the assurance they gave that he would live.

The last day arrived, again suddenly as before. The hopes and the second prediction were denied. The hopes that kept him alive, and the prediction of his resurrection, gave me faith. The line of his life did not continue. He did not return as he said but disappeared in the void between the two lines. Between life and death, death took him. Only that night has left to haunt me, and I curse the mysterious woman who read his palm.

Created by Diana Chemeris

Story in Greek link below:


Δημοσιεύτηκε από τον dianachem

Fairy Tales May Be Real


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