Winter Sun

                                 
                                                        
                                                   


Sometimes our fate resembles a tree in winter. Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it.

                                                                                      

                                                                                          ~ Johann Wolfgang Goethe

Azzedine stood motionless in the darkest corner of his study to the left of the fireplace mantle, hidden behind the heavy drapes of the window. Peering out from behind the drapery as quiet as she could be, she watched as he stared blankly out the window. Could he sense that she was there? Sam stared out at the rambling garden with it's overgrown shrubs, barren flower gardens and two, leaves bare English oak trees. His face was pale and gaunt and his thinning, longish blonde hair hadn't seen a brush in days. Azzedine had been dead for nearly two weeks now but Sam couldn't stop waiting for her. He was certain she would pull into their long gravel driveway,  ebullient as always......yapping a hundred miles a minute as she unpacked her suitcases from the Rover, telling Sam about her travels. The lump in his throat was too much to swallow as Sam collapsed onto the leather chair and began to sob like an abandoned child.

"I am here, look at me!" Azzedine screamed. She leaned in to wrap her arms around Sam but fell through him instead. It was only then as Azzedine fell to the floor that she saw the dark purple bruises covering her arms.

In that instant, everything came flooding back in her memory.  Driving through the valley on the M5, singing along to a T.Rex tune, hands tapping on the steering wheel, the feeling of elation inside her body. Now she knew why. It was the best possible news she could give Sam.

Sun shining too brightly in her eyes, tires squealing, the loud crushing bang, shards of glass stinging her face, the metallic taste in her mouth, then nothing. Blackness. In one final instant.

Sam's whole body ached, right down to his bones. His grief was overwhelming and he hadn't bathed at all or eaten much in a week. It occurred to him to just stay sitting in his dark study, in his leather chair behind his desk and wither away. Wither into nothingness until death came to collect him. In that moment, he caught a gentle whiff of Azzedine's perfume and his heart felt as though it would burst wide open and break free from his chest. His emotions a mix of terrifying sadness and clear, unshakable hope.
Much like the scent of Azzedine....her warm skin always perfumed with basil & neroli. Earthy, deep yet a hint of something other-worldly and stratospheric.


Moving in foggy, shapeless movements around Sam's study, the knot in Azzedine's stomach became wretchedly painful as she was forced to watch her dearest love in such a dreadful, desperate state. If only she had made it home that day to deliver him the glorious news of what they had accomplished together, every bit of Sam's life would be profoundly different.
Everything he was at this moment in his life would give way to the most luminous of days.
Azzedine leaned in again to wrap her arms around Sam, to hold him with all of the love she had inside her. She kissed his head and gently combed his hair. Azzedine then went to the window and threw open the drapes she'd been hiding behind. The radiant Winter sun shone on Sam's face and a stillness came over both of them.

Sam felt her and closed his eyes to reach for her in thin air. He let out a sigh that came from deep within him as he rose from his chair and walked over to the large window once more. He felt a whisper in his ear. " Let me sing you a new song". The lump in his throat turned into in a small, grateful laugh.
Looking out at  their garden beyond the stone terrace he could see the English oaks standing like two sentinels on either side of the drive, their acorns scattered around the tree trunks like a hundred pesky children. Sam always wanted to chop down the damned things but Azzedine adored those trees, often gathering acorns in her pockets for no good reason.

She often told Sam that the acorns held a million possibilities. Like the mighty, majestic tree inside them.

"Let me sing you a new song" Azzedine whispered in Sam's ear once more.

"I am here".