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Viola
Ophelia - February 2020

Ophelia - February 2020

Attuning my senses to the prediction of the weather forecast I laid out my plans for the following morning; a day of lethargy and sunbathing. Viola had become quite distressed by the events following her inauguration to university, so I awoke, to comfort Viola, and give her some rest. The unlimited delights of the morning sky unfolded before me. Gazing into the horizon, I took solace in the blossoming sun beaming down onto the canvas of earth, and decided to bathe my body in the glow of the sun. As I lay on the ground, the blades of grass tickled my skin. I began to drink an effervescent beer, as the carbonated bubbles danced on the taste buds of my tongue. Before long I began to hear distant noises arise from my neighbour's garden. I adjusted my peripheral vision to the sight of a woman. She glowed in the bloom of the hot sun kissed sky. I examined the woman with rash curiosity. The sun masqueraded and obscured her intense beauty, but I could see through that.

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The sunlit glow of the sky shone with majesty, illuminating the figure before me. She was a tall, yet slender woman, with glistening honey-hued brown skin. I gazed at her, admiring her beauty and the majesty in which she composed herself. She seemed elegant and spoke in an eloquent tone, in soft, hushed whispers. A man seemed to pair her, yet the same level of grandeur had not been afforded to this gentleman. He was stout and impish in demeanour; similar to my classics professor. I pondered for a second about the likeness of the two, before considering my neighbour’s stature and demeanour. My classics professor was a calm and quaint figure, whereas my neighbour, despite his impish demeanour, seemed to command an aura of grandeur. He was not my soft-spoken professor, but rather a brash and arrogant figure.

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“Thanks one and all”, spoke the impish man, “to me and Virginia’s one year wedding anniversary”.

The honey-hued woman began to laugh, looking at her husband in an adoring fashion before placing a hand, caringly, across his waist. In the crowd of onlookers I began to distinguish many people within the blur of the frenzy. An ancient, slavic-looking woman beamed a cunning smile whilst looking adoringly at the impish man. I began to ponder her relationship to the man, assuming her to be his mother, as they both bore a familial resemblance.

“My dear Vladimir”, cried the ancient woman, caressing the cheek of the impish man, “I would not miss my son’s first wedding anniversary for the world.”

I chuckled at the realisation that I was correct in assuming their familial relationship.

Within the vicinity of my peripheral vision I could make out a buffet of food laid across an ornate table. The smoke from a barbeque began to billow into my garden, as the intoxicating smoke began to fill my nostrils. It was a delightful indulgence for my senses. As the party progressed music began to filter through the noise of scattered laughter from the party’s guests. I danced ceremoniously to the hum of the acoustics of the music. I was not a guest, but was privy to such orchestral music within the vicinity of my garden. I now knew of my neighbours; but Viola did not.