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Bang! This time the bullet made a hole in his right leg. Michael fell to the ground with a cry. The attacker got into his car and sped away.William came running to the spot. He bent down and tried to lift his head.
“Oh, my friend. What has happened! Don’t worry, Michael. I’ll save you. Don’t leave me here, friend,” his voice was nearly hysterical.
“William,” he touched his lips, breathing heavily. “Give these to Eva.” He looked at him and conveyed so much that his tongue could never have. They had been friends since childhood and they had never failed to understand each other. Then he took his last breath, in arms of his friend.
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William walked into room no. 47.
“He’s dead! Is that what you wanted, eh? He died for you!” he was shouting.
“Just look, look at this!” he threw the roses and the card at her; and then he was astonished.
With trembling hands she picked up the card and opened it. In the beautiful hand-writing of Michael it was written, “I love you.”
Slowly a tear formed in her eye and it rolled down her cheek and reached her lips; and then a smile crept on her face.
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William was standing at Michael’s funeral. Michael, lying in the coffin, was about to be buried. William opened his right hand and inserted a hundred dollar note in it. Then he bent down and kissed his forehead.
“You were right old friend; she did smile; but when it was too late.”
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Writer Profile
Awais Aftab
Writing has been a passion, a love ever since I learned to write. For me, writing is a means of expression of 'secret tears and secret pleasures'. True writing comes from the heart and often it is the one to find you, not you the one to find it. Writing gives me power, the strength to carry on, the will to live and to live in a better way. It helps me find deeper meaning in the world around me and to understand myself much better. I can't survive without writing. For me, my writings are the whispers of life, in which the glory and sorrow of life echoes. For me, these are the glittering tears, whose every flash encompasses a thousand aspects of life. I believe that, 'I write; therefore I am.' However, true ease in writing comes from art, and I still have to learn a lot about that.
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