Condolences
It is gray and cold outside. You lay on a chaise lounge, wrapped up in a blanket, watching the rain fall against the windowpane, and you cry. You received the notice a week ago. A brief, perfunctory letter: Agent Oliver Sampson was eliminated in an automobile accident during his assignment. Condolences.
You didn't cry then, mainly because you didn't believe it. As the days wore on, and there was no sign of Oliver, it began to sink in. Still, you didn't cry. You are crying now because you are starting to have trouble remembering the smell of his skin, the feel of his hand on your cheek.
You continue to stare out the window, not sure if minutes have passed, or hours. You wonder if it's possible to will yourself to join him in death, knowing he wouldn't have appreciated your taking a more active method to get there. It seems you only feel two things anymore, intense pain or cold emptiness and you just want it to stop. You try once more to recall his touch, closing your eyes and squeezing out the fresh liquid that has formed there.
This time you succeed! You can feel the heat of his skin, the cold metal of his pinkie ring, the callus on his thumb. You blink your eyes open and look up only to find Oliver standing over you, smiling down. At first you are convinced you have fallen asleep and are dreaming but then you see the slight purpling at the side of his mouth where a bruise has formed and the bandage on his forehead, half hidden by his hair.
"Oliver?" Your voice is quiet in case he is still some phantom or figment you might chase away in your exuberance.
Oliver smiles. "It's me Love. Why are you crying?"
Why are you crying? You bark a laugh at that which only dissolves you into a torrent of tears. You bury your face in your hands and weep. You feel his weight press down beside you, his arms coming around you, his lips kissing your cheek. He is cooing in your ear, comforting, consoling.
Once you have calmed considerably, he whispers to you, "What is it, my Love? What happened to upset you so?"
You dig your hand down behind the cushion and produce the letter your employers had sent. You hand it to him. He reads as you wipe your cheeks with your hands. "My God." He looks you in the eye, taking your hand in his. "I am so sorry. That accident was no accident. I escaped, but not easily. It took me a few extra days to make the rendezvous. If I had known this had been sent. That you were going through this. I would have found some way to contact you."
"All that matters is that it's not true." You run your finger along his lips. Oliver kisses it. He moves his hands to your cheeks and wipes the tears away. It suddenly occurs to you what a wreck you must look, eyes puffy, skin blotchy and red. You cast your eyes downward.
"Don't. Let me look into your eyes. You know you are always beautiful to me."
He knows you so well. You look up and he smiles at you. You gaze gratefully into those eyes. Those eyes you fell in love with and thought you'd never see again. Oliver leans forward and kisses you, slowly and completely. Your hand slips into his hair and you press him closer.....
|
|
| The character of Oliver Sampson and the show VR.5 were created by John Sacret Young and are © Samoset Productions and Rysher Entertainment. No infringement is intended and no profits are being made. |