The Wish - Week 1

THE WISH

Have you ever imagined that your life could somehow be better… happier? Have you ever wished that you could change even just one thing about your past, knowing that it would perhaps be all that you would need to do in order to live the life you desire? Have you considered the consequences of altering even one tiny fraction of a detail from your past? Would you be willing to take that chance? Are you sure?

WEEK ONE

The early March air was brisk and crisp. Light traces of snow still lay on the ground as if to subtly remind all who saw it that winter still held everyone in it’s icy grip. Basil dug his hands deeper into the pockets of his Armani suede jacket. Quietly, he stood alone, observing the small group of mourners that was gathered around the gravesite. He shivered as the brisk winds whistled and whipped itself around him and all those there, snaking in and out, making sure to embrace each one. He watched, and quickly stepped aside as a teenaged boy ran past him, chasing a woman’s hat that the wind had blown from it’s perch on top of her head. But no one seemed bothered by the wind or the cold other than Basil. Quickly he reached for the collar of his jacket and lifted it, pulling it in closer to his face. He knew he could leave anytime he chose. In fact, he had no real reason for being there other than to see her. Her… Mrs. Maris Winters. He felt like a school boy with a crush just thinking about her.
Maris had been the love of his life in high school and in college. In fact, they had even gotten engaged during their sophomore year. Life had been seemingly perfect then… perfect until she suddenly dumped him for Blaine Winters. Blaine Winters, star football player- guaranteed to go pro. Every girl on campus would have killed to go out with him. He could have had his pick from hundreds of girls, all would have been willing to give up their current relationships to be with him. Even Maris. His Maris. Beautiful, sweet, shy Maris. Blaine chose her . It had shocked every female on campus. After-all, she wasn’t a cheerleader, she wasn’t president of anything or captain of anything. She was just one of a hundred or so straight-A students, studying for a degree in political science.
In fact, the only noteworthy thing she had done at the time was to drop out of the pre-med program and change her major to political science. But even that wasn’t huge news. You could always find someone changing majors.
A sudden shrill wail of grief rang out and carried in the wind, from someone in the front of the group. Instantly, Basil was snapped back from the past. Was it Maris? He wondered as he curiously made his way closer to the front for a better look. Upon getting close enough, he could see a thin, but curvaceous figure draped over the casket. He was enchanted by the long, thick mink-brown hair that cascaded over one shoulder and down her back. His heart did a little dance. He knew it was her.
Without actually meaning to do so, he moved a little closer. And then again. Before he knew it, he was close enough to reach out and stroke the soft waves of her hair.
Basil took a deep breath. He was so close. Close enough to lose himself in the intoxicating scent of her perfume. Like a hug from a dear friend, it enveloped him, holding him a willing captive.
“Sir, please give us some room. She needs some air,” an unfamiliar voice urgently requested.
“I… I’m sorry,” Basil sputtered, stumbling backwards out of the way. Suddenly, he felt frozen in time and his breathing became labored as he watched a tall thin man and a woman who was a very attractive, though much older, version of Maris, usher her quickly to a seat. He stood motionless as he watched them take a seat beside her in the row of cushioned chairs underneath the huge ivory canopy.
Basil knew instantly that the older woman was Maris’ mother. She really had not changed very much. The years had been most kind to her. But who was the rather distinguished looking man? Maris had no brothers and he wasn’t aware of any male cousins. He could spend countless hours guessing, and perhaps he would never know. But he did know who it wasn’t. It wasn’t her husband, Blaine Winters. He after all, was the reason for the gathering. There, just a few feet away from him, dressed in a very expertly tailored and very expensive suit that Basil could easily identify as the stylish quality of Neiman Marcus, lay Blaine Winters, thirty-seven year old- self made millionaire.

* be sure to look for the next posting of THE WISH next Saturday January 24. Please remember to share your comments with us, we love hearing from you!