Where Dews Fall

All Rights Reserved Ā©

Summary

I really plan on sending you these letters but I don't know when? It's not like you're leaving in another country or there's a great distance between us. I just don't know how you will feel if you read them. I feel torn Meine geliebte. Will you accept me the way I am. Am I someone you will like to spend quality time with? So many questions... A light read memoir

Genre
Romance
Author
Blue
Status
Ongoing
Chapters
10
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
16+

1st Letter

All rights reserved. ©2021

No part of this book shall be translated, transmitted or reproduced in any form or means without the author's permission.

Where Dews Fall is entirely a work of fiction created by the author and published on wattpad and Inkitt.

All characters in this publication are fictional and any resemblance to real persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Ā© 2021 Bluestorme


1st Letter


Meine Geliebte,

I never called anyone that, probably because I had no reason to.

It wasn't that much of a big deal to actually call someone Meine geliebte, but it somehow struck me the first time I heard it. It was in Ms. Sibel Kinski's class. You should know her. She taught German language. She was expressing the use of pronouns and possessive nouns in beginning of sentences when she said it so casually. It sounded curt and sharp, her voice emotionless. I understood the meaning in an entirely different way, maybe because of you. The meaning resonated with me.

It was rather odd for me to refer to you as Meine geliebte. It was absurd I know but what can I do when it was your image that came to mind.

It didn't start there. Me deciding to call you Meine geliebte didn't start that day. It all began on a Saturday when I was at the bookstore. You know that bookstore. The one down the busy main road, just opposite the hair salon where your mother normally styled her hair. Yes I know your mother. I do see her when she meets up with her friends in the coffee shop beside the salon.

Anyone could tell you were related because the resemblance was uncannily similar - dark eyes, freckles around your nose and cheeks...

That was when I first saw you in a different outfit and environment from the usual school uniforms we wore almost everyday. You rode your Raleigh bicycle, I can still remember the short sleeved white shirt you wore, exposing your slim arms. I peered at you from the glass windows lost in awe of just watching you. Not hearing the horns of the cars plying the busy roads, or the kids laughing out as the ran past you.

Light, blue jean, wristwatch, freckles, mole, skin, hair - Just enough to get me curious. Although I held the book I wanted to buy in my hand, my eyes followed your move. Through the glass I saw you wave at someone, then you walked into the coffee shop. I looked away for a minute and blinked away time or should I say I tried to beat myself back to reality.

You made me smile. Yes. It was unexpected but I smiled. And when you came out from the coffee shop, you held a cup in your hand. For a split second I wished I was that cup. No...

The librarian must have been wondering why I was taking so long just standing like a tree, a book in my hands and staring out the window. I settled with the librarian, took the book and slowly walked out of the shop. Who are you? Why did you run into my vision. I smile each time I close my eyes and drift back to that day.

The book I borrowed had short stories about characters who survived wars in their countries. At night I will ponder what fate awaited those kind of people. The people the war had left half their life drained by horrors, and pain. How was I supposed to survive this war with myself?

If I told you, you were meine geliebte, would you end this war within me.






Thanks for stopping by to read.

So I'm writing this because lately my writing juice ran out and I'm gradually trying to refill and start writing again. (life happens)

There will be errors and typos, (kinda feel like breaking some rules of writing) feel free to point them out, I'm just focused on getting the story written as a first draft for now.

Meine geliebte, means 'my love' in German. If I'm not mistakenšŸ˜€.