~ Just Another Night Of December ~

http://weheartit.com/entry/4624990 @

They were both next to the bonfire in silence, like in any other day. It was mid-December and the snow was falling down gracefully, as they could see through the window. Leonard was smoking his typical pipe and reading some old newspapers he had found in that same afternoon. He looked at Virginia, scribbling loudly in her notebook, just like in any other day. However, she was looking merely confused, he thought to himself. He didn't want to interrupt her, but yet he was curious. So typical of him.

"What's wrong?", he asked, nervously.

Virginia stared at him, very serious. In that minute, Leonard regretted of having called her. But then it was already too late - damage done, so what could he do? He wanted to know why was Virginia feeling frustrated in that night. That was absolutely untypical of her: she always knew what to write when she really wanted to. So, what was happening?

"Somebody needs to die...", she said, looking away at the picture of her sister, in London. "… In my novel", she explained herself after, while rubbing her temples smoothly.

Both got really quiet, emerged in a cold and deep silence, occasionally interrupted by the sound of children who were running around, across the street. Leonard was holding a challenging question on the tip of his tongue… But since he was on a day of taking risks, why not another one?

"Why? Why does someone need to die?", he asked, taking a sip of his blackberry whiskey, imported right from Italy, on a December night just like that one.

Virginia got up and walked to the window. She looked outside and stood, for a moment, just watching those little children playing around - throwing snowballs to the air, building up snowmen and drawing little angels on the ground. What a beautiful picture, she thought. It almost looked like Heaven, such simplicity of the moment. She found herself smiling and waving at them, but they were so distracted that they didn't even realize the poor old lady she now was. Finally, she looked at Leonard, always quiet and paying complete attention to her, like in any other day of the year.

"Someone needs to die so that others can learn to value life."

~ Late For Lunch ~

Leonard entered the room - it was already 12 o' clock - and Virginia was still at her desk, writing down something that he was completely unaware of and looking around, without ever realizing his presence. She was focused, he noticed. But still, it was lunch time already and she couldn't get late, or else she wouldn't take her medication on time. Suddenly, a slight concern embraced Leonard, so he came over to Virginia, briefly touching her shoulder.

"What are you doing?", he mumbled, almost whispering.

"Writing my novel…", she answered.

Leonard got surprised. His wife didn't write since last spring because, quoting her, she wasn't feeling inspired enough. He grinned, stepping away.

"Well, it's lunch time. You should go downstairs.", he said, reaching the exit door.

"I'm going. Just need one more minute."

He stopped by the italian vase near the door. He kept looking at her, quiet, as she continued to write. It was always like that, when she was writing: she created that impenetrable "wall" around her that prevented everyone from bothering her. It had been awhile, he thought. He kind of missed it, to be honest. She've never been a smiley woman - for the way she was raised -, but when she was writing, she had that mysterious glow in her eyes; that little dimple around her shy and instantaneous smile.

"I'll wait for you then"

Leonard went downstairs slowly and sited at the kitchen table. He put his napkin on his lap and laced his fingers. He kept completely silent and patient, as the hours passed by. Soon he realized that Virginia wouldn't come for lunch - somehow, he already suspected it, before. But he didn't get mad or disappointed at her; never. In fact, he couldn't be prouder. She was writing again, after all that time.
She was finally herself again.