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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Teens
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Fantasy / Dreams / Wishes
- Published: 02/04/2012
A Short Short Love Story
Born 1943, F, from Elk Grove, California, United StatesHe first saw her staring at her reflection in the pond. He was struck dumb by her beauty. She sat as though carved in ivory, peering into the murky water. Entranced by her charm, he realized he had ceased to breathe. He feared to move, lest the spell be broken and she might disappear.
He returned often to catch a glimpse of her, and each time, was rewarded by her allure, motionless and lovely, so near, and yet so far. He dreamed of her by night and thought of her by day. He was compelled to speak to friends, to any ear that would hear. His mother begged him not to return to the pond. Her words echoed in his ears.
“It is not meant to be, my son. She is white and you are black. Such a union is not possible in our world.”
He hated to hear his mother’s admonition and turned a deaf ear.
Often she was at the pond and yet he dared not speak, for fear of rejection. Should she reject him and not return, he could not live without the sight of her.
The days passed and winter turned to spring. Pink cherry blossoms bloomed around the pond.
Children’s laughter mingled with the robin’s song. Little boys flew their kites high in the sky. The sun’s rays warmed his back and reflected off his beloved’s head, as she gazed into the pond, seeming unaware of his presence. He adored her from afar.
Then came a time when he came and she was not there. Was she ill? Had she gone away? Would he never see her again?
One day, he saw her, limping as she came toward him. Somehow he felt responsible. He should have declared himself and protected her. At last, he gathered his courage to go to her, to surround her with his love. As he started forward, she stepped off the bank and waded into the water.
Two boys began to fling stones at her, striking her head and shoulders.
He rose in a fury and rushed at the boys. He never felt such anger! Again and again he struck at them, until they ran screaming from the pond.
She came slowly out of the water, took a step, then two, stumbled and fell. He rushed to her side but could not lift her. She lay silently on the bank, then slowly rose from the grass, but spoke not a word. She looked neither left nor right. Then she took a few steps, started to run… and lifting gracefully from the riverbank….flew into the evening sunset.
He stood alone by the pond and watched her soar overhead, growing smaller as she disappeared behind the clouds. At last he understood, he would never again see her beautiful white body, her long graceful neck. A tear trickled down his black cheek. And now he understood his mother’s words. “It is not meant to be, my son. She is white and you are black. Such a union is not possible in our world.”
He turned and left the pond, never to return. And now he understood. He was a crow, and she was a lovely white swan.
A Short Short Love Story(Elaine Faber)
He first saw her staring at her reflection in the pond. He was struck dumb by her beauty. She sat as though carved in ivory, peering into the murky water. Entranced by her charm, he realized he had ceased to breathe. He feared to move, lest the spell be broken and she might disappear.
He returned often to catch a glimpse of her, and each time, was rewarded by her allure, motionless and lovely, so near, and yet so far. He dreamed of her by night and thought of her by day. He was compelled to speak to friends, to any ear that would hear. His mother begged him not to return to the pond. Her words echoed in his ears.
“It is not meant to be, my son. She is white and you are black. Such a union is not possible in our world.”
He hated to hear his mother’s admonition and turned a deaf ear.
Often she was at the pond and yet he dared not speak, for fear of rejection. Should she reject him and not return, he could not live without the sight of her.
The days passed and winter turned to spring. Pink cherry blossoms bloomed around the pond.
Children’s laughter mingled with the robin’s song. Little boys flew their kites high in the sky. The sun’s rays warmed his back and reflected off his beloved’s head, as she gazed into the pond, seeming unaware of his presence. He adored her from afar.
Then came a time when he came and she was not there. Was she ill? Had she gone away? Would he never see her again?
One day, he saw her, limping as she came toward him. Somehow he felt responsible. He should have declared himself and protected her. At last, he gathered his courage to go to her, to surround her with his love. As he started forward, she stepped off the bank and waded into the water.
Two boys began to fling stones at her, striking her head and shoulders.
He rose in a fury and rushed at the boys. He never felt such anger! Again and again he struck at them, until they ran screaming from the pond.
She came slowly out of the water, took a step, then two, stumbled and fell. He rushed to her side but could not lift her. She lay silently on the bank, then slowly rose from the grass, but spoke not a word. She looked neither left nor right. Then she took a few steps, started to run… and lifting gracefully from the riverbank….flew into the evening sunset.
He stood alone by the pond and watched her soar overhead, growing smaller as she disappeared behind the clouds. At last he understood, he would never again see her beautiful white body, her long graceful neck. A tear trickled down his black cheek. And now he understood his mother’s words. “It is not meant to be, my son. She is white and you are black. Such a union is not possible in our world.”
He turned and left the pond, never to return. And now he understood. He was a crow, and she was a lovely white swan.
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