Samantha's Diary

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A woman walked in to her room, turned on the light and moved toward her bureau. The light from her lamp highlighted her top drawer and made the broken handle quite noticeable. She sighed for the injured handle and opened her drawer to reach for her diary. She then grabbed her pen, sat down on her bed and began to write like any other night. She continued writing next to the page already filled with sentences about Will. Surrounding her words were dried drops of tears, but she ignored their presence and focused on the empty section.
The crickets made music outside her window and the curtains danced as the wind guided them. Samantha laid her head on her pillow as the crickets and curtains kept themselves entertained. She wrote of her day at the park and how she brought her paint set and easil assuming to be painting a garden or a tree. However, the sight of an old couple intrigued her instead. They sat together on a small bench. The man read the newspaper while the woman fed bread to the ducks. Samantha could not help but smile at the scene and quickly began to paint the couple, hoping to keep her attention a secret. Her brush strokes were smooth and the colors blended well expressing the emotion of love.
She was working on the woman's lips when she noticed the smallest of smiles in the corner of her mouth. Samantha was distracted by her hint of happiness and watched as the man reached for her hand that was now placed in the bag of bread crumbs. They then turned to eachother and stared at one another for what seemed to be a minute, but they eventually turned away and the woman fed ducks while the man read the newspaper. Samantha continued to paint.
She began to focus on the set of pearls placed around the feeble neck of the woman. The man then rested his hand ontop his wife's shoulder and she grabbed his hand without looking. The woman turned her attention away from the ducks and placed her eyes on her husband. He gently kissed her forehead. Samantha continued to paint.
She moved her way down to the woman's feet. Samantha could not help but giggle at the woman's tiny feet placed in enormous sneakers. They must have been a gift from a friend or a doctor. The ducks still paraded around the woman's feet so Samantha made sure to include the silly creatures in her painting. One tiny duckling tried so hard to see who was giving him food. But his neck was not long enough and his muscles grew soar from lifting his head. So he shook his feathers and continued to stare at the ground to see if there were any more pieces of bread. Pieces began to fly and one landed on the old man's shoe. The duckling made his way to the enormous piece and found himself being lifted up by a massive hand. The poor duckling did not know how to fly just yet and his parents were nowhere to be seen, so he sat on the man's palm and waited to see what was going to happen.
Samantha watched the scene of the man examining the duckling and decided that would be the perfect image to include in her painting. She ended her work on the woman and began painting the man with the tiny duckling in his hand.
The man inspected the duckling and so did the woman. "Oh what a cute little thing it is," said the woman. The man nodded and spoke to the duckling. "So where are your parents little guy? Is no one helping you eat?" The little duckling stared into the man's eyes with no expression. The man and woman laughed at the delightful creature. The man then placed the duckling on his wife's lap so she could adore its look and behavior.
She grabbed some tiny bread crumbs and allowed the duckling to eat out of her hand. She laughed at its little nibbles and quick bounces from piece to piece. The duckling was no longer frightened and began to feel comfortable with the strangers. The woman would have loved to take the duckling home, but she knew it had parents somewhere, so she regretfully told herself she would have to leave the duckling in the park.
Samantha was almost done with the painting of the man and woman. She had to change the woman a bit due to the presence of the little duckling, but she was pleased with her work. The man looked welcoming as he held the duckling in hand while his wife looked pleased by his side. Samantha made sure to include the smile that was forever placed in the corner of the woman's lips.
Samantha continued to paint. She finished the images of the flowers behind the couple and painted the details in their clothing. Eventually the couple placed the duckling back on the ground and it waddled away to search for its parents. Samantha watched the duckling walk away and laughed at his content expression. She then turned her attention to her finished painting. The couple were the perfect models. She almost wanted to show her painting to the couple, but she decided not to because she did not want them to feel like some one was intruding on their private moment. So she sat for a while and stared at her painting. She looked at the woman's smile and the man's soft eyes and how they clearly held each other's heart with care.
She turned her attention to the couple readying themselves to stand up from the bench. They began to slowly walk away with their hands intertwined. Samantha felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She brushed it away with her hand but another began to form to take its place. She thought of Will and how he was supposed to grow old with her in life. But God took him away. Now she lived in an empty apartment with no one to grow old with, and no one with whom to feed ducklings. She envied the couple on the bench, but she would never dare to take their happiness.
After the painting seemed dry, she took down her easil and began her short walk home. She entered her apartment, turned the light on and left the painting on the sofa. After taking a glimpse at the picture of her and Will in her hallway, she walked into her room. Samantha turned on the light and moved toward her bureau. She sighed for the injured handle that Will promised to fix and opened her drawer to reach for her diary. She then grabbed her pen, sat down on her bed and began to write like any other night.





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