shyammonk

“Silence today…” his wife noted, smiling, as he walked into the house. She relaxed a bit, feeling the builder calm than usual.

It was a usual day for the builder, other than for the orange envelope that appeared on his table in the afternoon. Inside the envelope, an orange paper carried the words of a 52 year old woman who had passed away a week ago. Her son brought in the letter, as he was instructed by his mother before she died.

The woman lived on the fourth floor of an apartment. Alone most of the time, with a part time servant to help her and be with her at night. At times she came out slowly to her balcony to lie down on her arm chair. From there she could see the orange building with blue and green colored window sills.

According to her, that building made her life colorful. Reminded her of happy things past. Her childhood. Her father who made her happy, though her mother had died early. When she wore her lacy pinkish white frock and hairband. How she had a nice teaching job as she grew up. How she used to bring food for three students who needed it without anyone knowing about it. How she felt alright and fine, looking at the orange building. And how she was now just ready to accept the change called death; almost curious to have the experience.

The orange building was her friend during her last days and she wanted to thank its builder.

The builder put his little girl to bed and kissed her on her eyes. He felt hands, her ankle, her little toes. Tonight it felt close and real than usual. Tomorrow, he would remember to get his wife the information for the new course she asked about, about a week before. Also, he would inquire about how he could help breast cancer patients.

As for the letter, he kept it in his wallet, not to be removed, till years later, when he showed it to her daughter, as she was about to leave to Vienna for her first performance abroad as a professional cello player.

I confess and repent that though i may have enough story ideas to keep telling till i am dead, i am not a good story writer yet. Thanks for reading. It is a lonely path, leave a kind note or tell about your orange building or the unexpected way one of your orange buildings was useful .

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