A Father's Love

BASTIAN

His desk was a mess. Papers littered everywhere, spilling onto the floor and piling up around the full waste bin. In fact, the whole apartment was a mess. Dishes in the sink, and dust gathering on the piano keys, because he wasn't the one who played it.

The only room in the apartment that wasn't cluttered was the yellow bedroom. Her clothes were still in the closet, folded and hung up from the last time she cleaned her room. "What a change from last year," he thought to himself. Last year, her room was the messiest. Last year, he had the joy of listening to the piano playing as he worked. Last year, she was the one who took him to the doctor's. His arthritis medication had long since run out.

Bastian could still write, though not as well as he used to. His old hands trembled more often. Incessantly, actually. Technology offered an easier path, one his daughter had often suggested, but his heart lay with the tangible feel of pen on paper, a sentiment his wife had shared. He wrote slowly, painstakingly writing letter by letter. The laptop hadn't been turned on for a year.

His shaking hands put the pen away, and he sat up, old bones creaking in protest.

Outside, people were always in a rush. Even in the morning, they bustled around, yelling and running and hailing taxis. He preferred to take things slowly, one step, one word at a time. His daughter said that was why he was such a great author. He took his time writing - all of his books were important enough to spend time on. Out of everything he wrote in his long life, though, the piece of paper clutched in his gnarled hand was the most important.

The gate to the cemetery was open. As he walked through, Bastian made sure not to step on any gravestones. The late October wind was chilling - he wrapped his coat tighter around his old body.

At last, he made it to his destination, braving the chill to visit two graves: one old, one painfully new. It had only been there a year, after all. He kneeled in front of the second one and willed his tears back inside. If he couldn't control his emotions long enough to deliver her a letter, what could he do? He placed the paper on top of his daughter's grave, next to the old flowers. She was always the best reader - his biggest fan. Bastian hoped she would like his last piece as much as she liked the others. The wind blew again, but he caught the paper in time and set it back down, smoothing the wrinkles.

He couldn't help sobbing after reading the gravestone's inscription. After a year, the sight of her name still overwhelmed him with grief. He left the letter, hoping against hope she could somehow feel his love through his words.

After a silent apology to his wife for not protecting their child, he took the long way home, wallowing in his grief because he had nothing better to do. He didn't like to rush things, after all.

As Bastian turned away, a gust of wind, sharper and more mischievous than the rest, snatched the note from its place beside the grave, sending it on an unintended journey through the city streets.

SOLEIL

8:46 pm. If she wanted to get to her apartment in time to complete her work, she'd have to hurry. Not all of her college professors were understanding - if she wanted to pass this year, she couldn't let family matters hold her down for too long. Soleil had only allowed a few tears to escape at the funeral. She had to stay strong for her mother. They cooked supper together that night, and Soleil kept the conversation up, not wanting her mom to think about the tragedy that had occurred so recently.

Her father Christopher was old and sick - it was bound to happen. But losing him was still so painful. Soleil couldn't grieve for long, though. She was too busy.

After her last tearful hug goodbye, she rushed outside. Soleil mentally scolded herself for not booking a taxi - she'd have to walk home. She checked her phone. 8:50 pm. If she was quick, she could make it back by 9:20. Soleil broke into a jog, appreciating the brisk October breeze and the pounding of her shoes on the pavement. It had been months since she had gone on her daily runs - she could blame college for that. She wasn't as fit as she would have liked to be, and she found herself taking a couple of breathers on the way.

Soleil plopped down on a bench to rest for a minute. She pulled out her phone and looked through her messages. She drew in a sharp breath when she spotted her father's contact. Scrolling through their last text exchanges, she realized that she hadn't texted in weeks. Soleil sighed. It was too late to message now. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

A notification pinged - her assignment was due that night. Wiping her face with her rough coat sleeve, she heaved herself off the bench and headed down the sidewalk again. The wind blew harder, and she had to push against it. It slapped a piece of paper onto her coat. It didn't look like the typical trash you would see on the sidewalk. Curious, she grabbed it before it could be blown away. It seemed to be a note... maybe a letter? Soleil turned it over in her hands, puzzled. The handwriting was unfamiliar, a stark reminder that this message wasn’t meant for her eyes. Yet, something about the note tugged at her heart. She remembered that her dad used to love sending letters - he said that they seemed more personal than communicating through technology. The memory stung her eyes, and she shoved the note in her pocket and ran the whole way home.

Chest heaving, she pulled her keys out of her bag. Her floor-level apartment was dark. The oven light read 9:37 pm. She switched the lights on, kicked off her sweaty shoes, and plopped on the sofa, next to her laptop. Her legs felt like cooked spaghetti noodles, and all she wanted was rest, but she had to get to work.

11:49 pm. Clicking submit was one of the best feelings she'd had all week, and she allowed herself a small smile; the first one since her father's passing. It was harder than she thought, balancing grief with life's responsibilities. She rubbed her LCD-burning eyes and stretched. Her coat and hat were still piled on the coffee table - but academic validation was worth a little mess. Scooping up her coat, the piece of paper she had tucked away earlier fluttered out. 

Soleil blinked. She had forgotten about that. Immediately, the dull ache in her heart throbbed. She considered throwing it away, but curiosity got the better of her. Sitting back down, she unfolded the crumpled paper. The handwriting was shaky but still legible. Some of the ink was smudged and dotted as if the author had been crying while writing it. She began to read.

Soon, teardrops of her own mingled with the dried-up ones on the paper. The silent grief she felt since her father's passing became too much to bear. A sob escaped her. She didn't know how long she cried.

Soleil sat there for a long time, the note's weight heavy in her hands. It was a message lost and found, a whisper from a stranger's life that echoed her own grief. How curious, she thought, that two souls could share such a moment without ever meeting.

In the quiet of her apartment, Soleil felt an unexpected kinship with a man she'd never met. His words, meant for another, had bridged the gap between two grieving hearts, leaving her to ponder the enigmatic paths through which sorrow connects people. It cast a shadow of mystery over the note's true origins and the fate (or wind?) that brought it to her hands. It was not hers, but she would cherish it forever.

12:34 pm.

BASTIAN'S LETTER

My Dearest Daughter,

If this message finds you, know that it carries my heart's deepest feelings. I've lived a life full of stories, but none as precious as ours silently held within me.

Every day, your absence is a shadow, but my love for you is a light that never dims. This letter is a testament to that love and my hope for your peace and happiness, wherever you may be. I know you love to rush, but leaving you came far too soon.

Know that you are forever in my heart, a bright star guiding me through the darkest nights. I hope we find each other again, in another place and another time. Until then, remember my love for you is eternal.

With all my love,

Your Father