a view of a room...(a narrative)

'My god!
The room is so beautiful!'
I exclaimed within, trying to be at ease with my amazement and bedazzled state
Entering her room...
So perfectly decorated...
She ushered me in and opened the big glass casements (for me?)
The rising sun rushed  into the room (for us two?)
Through the white curtains hanging like some princess' flowing gown...
The bedstead was neat ...white bed spread...white pillows soft and silky!(for he and she?)
The bed side table had two books...(one by me! My God!)
The ottoman was there too! big! cushioned to rest any tired soul( for he or she or me?)
The glass cabinet had exotic bottles...(Perrier-Jou√ęt!Chardonnay!Pinot Noir!Cuvee!...all french! for both of them? for guests like me?)
I was stirred and shaken...both...by the view of her(their?) room...

She understood my discomfort...my unease...knowing me for years...
So...she just hang loose around me,keeping a curious kind of smile on her thin lips...
'Hey! make no mistake! I'm really kind of flustered...if you see what I mean...'
I murmured...not trying to hide my ill-at-ease state;
She giggled...
She giggled like a child, as if she had not yet grown into a woman proper!
'Why are you laughing? at me?'
I asked, irritated somewhat...
She still giggled...
'Look...as you asked me to come...so here I am...but where's your partner?'
I asked, looking around (as if I am to find him hiding somewhere in the room! me the idiot! curse me!)
She stopped giggling...looked at me...
'Sit...' She said...(as if she was ordering me! so easily!)
'No! I mean...I need to go...I need to attend some other works...you see...'
I protested;

'Okay...go...'
She said, nodding...(what a woman! come'n! ask me to stay dear!)
I looked at her...(me... the idiot!)
'Okay...bye bye then...take care...'
I said and started walking out of her room...
'Wait a minute...'( so? now you're calling me from behind? good!)
She said;
I stopped...
(God knows I was always willing actually, to stop and stay for a while....)

'Take your novella...its useless!'
She remarked, handing me a copy of my first published work...
I stood like a statue...
The book fell from my hand...
On the white marble...
Somewhere a cuckoo cooed...
Somewhere a linnet sang...
Somewhere a violinist played a tune of mourning as well...




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