Saturday, January 10, 2015

The Lingering Toll of A Bell...


It was Berceuse from Dolly, all that she heard, the time the long-legged gentleman stepped inside her room. She never thought, nor felt, anything quite like this before.

The warmth of the lips. She had only tasted it twice, something such peculiar; the first time was when she could just feels what it's like to feel; some medical books stated it as 'the phase when the sensory receptor able to function,' sometime when she turned three.

The other moment was vibrating.

It was Berceuse from Dolly, too.

He had golden-hay hair, his nasal was rough and skull-bulging-like, and he appeared to be recently shaving. She could pictured him in an ushanka-ish uniform and he would be the most graceful General ever. Like King Nicholas.

She was surprised to see him could be so tender, with fingers on the piano, playing The Berceuse.

It was his GrandDad Ricardovich.

She might still be three years old that time, but thanks to him she could understand the beauty of the white, high-ceiled hall where the piano was being played.

She could see the personality of Ricardovich. It was serene and sometimes empty, the Hall, but luminosity was everywhere and the sun felt so tender but the snow felt less cold.

He turned his body and saw Little Therryana. He laughed, and raised her in his arm.

His kiss was unforgetable.


Now they said that this young fellow would be her doctor.

Therryana was in love at the first sight.


Arthur Levan saw this. Therryana had just not realized it that he was anxiously gripping the butterfly net, for he feared that a heart would fall and shattered.

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