Roomful of Love

Short story, copyright mine. Inspired by 'The Prayer of Jabez'-Bruce Wilkinson, 'The nightmare before Christmans'-Tim Burton, and 'Everything is Illuminated'-Jonathan Safran Foer.

To Navi with love.

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About 20 mins' walk away from here, there is an old well, forgotten by everyone but some vagrants depending on it for water. These vagrants were once runaways; no one remembers from where - perhaps they were from the Boys' Home Great Escape way back, when we were not even born yet; or they were mere vagabonds, immigrants who could not apply for proper housing. Perhaps they had gotten so used to the outdoor elements that they considered it a form of freedom to be able to stay out in the open; much preferring it to a constrained living quarter.

Long ago, it was whispered among the locals living in terrace houses nearby that the well, and its surrounding land once was the property of an eccentric man, so old and wrinkled-looking, that no one was able to tell how old he was. He owned the land for miles around, including the place where both you and I now live, and some say that his silhouette could be seen, walking in the empty field outside of your room. The vagrants told me that this man was a wizard; some called him an angel sent from heaven, depending on their beliefs. They said he owned special rooms where people in desperation could go to and find everything they wanted. This is true. If you wanted badly to believe it, it will be true for you, too.

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Coral pushed open the wide, imposing iron-grilled gate set in black grilles, tentatively peering into the old man's garden. Almost at once, he appeared. He looked so much frailer than she had thought, with his bony arms jutting out of his flapping, loose sleeves. His shirt had tortoiseshell buttons on them.
"Ah, come in, my dear. I know what you have come here for, so please, feel at ease."
Without further conversation he silently led Coral through the spiralling staircases, and upstairs to a huge ballroom, ornately decorated. He murmured, almost inaudibly, "Choose, and let your choice remain, forever."

Coral found herself facing 2 door, the first one had a sign on it, stating "Prestige", the second, "Love". With hesitation, she pushed open 'Love', and reverently stepped in. The room was much smaller that she had expected it to be, slightly bigger than her tiny bedroom - but it was filled from floor- to ceiling- with boxes; sized no bigger than her palm. The old man motioned to her that she could only pick one, grinned a toothless smile, and vanished. Knowing that it could be the most important choice of her life, she meticulously decided on an order in which she could view all the boxes, and thus pick the most fitting one.

The first one she picked up was a pretty red velveted one, bordered with tiny, sparkling diamonds. It was marked "DESIRE". She opened the box and saw a vision of herself, surrounded by the most gorgeous things, things she had always wanted but could not afford it, or thought it was not practical to get. In the vision, she was surrounded by a VW beetle furnished with stereo sound, chocolate fondues, lush allium bouquets, designer shoes that fit with the greatest comfort, vintage furniture, luxury goods. It all felt so good. 'Then again', she thought, 'If I have every thing I love, so easily, I won't be happy.' So she closed the box with a sign and looked around. The next box she picked up, a colorful, fancy package, was marked "IDOLIZE" - it showed her adoring fans showering her with love. She could not live with that forever, no, so she also closed that box and put it aside. Coral peeked at the one marked "Sensational Passion", a box made of the softest, lushest cashmere. She opened it, and the carnal vision she saw of herself and someone else in a tryst made her blush. She snapped it shut and threw it aside.

She sifted through the ribboned boxes marked "Pleasure", "Infatuation", "Devotion", "Intrigue", "Lust" and was about to give up hope that she would ever find something in 'Love' that she could take back with her; when she noticed in between "Time" and "Friendship" there was a small wooden box. This box looked well-worn and had delicate carvings on its lid. It was slightly smaller than the rest of the boxes, that was why she had failed to notice it earlier. It was marked "'TRUST". Curiously, Coral opened it gingerly. It flipped open, and she saw herself looking into the most dazzling eyes of her future beau, and she felt strange butterflies in her tummy, with an elated feeling of rapture as they both said they would always trust, honor, and respect each other, and only tell the truth, as they pledged their love.

Coral realised that this was what she wanted. She did not want to be in love with love, nor always searching for a real meaning of love, nor experimenting with the different dark sides of love. She knew she wanted a place where her yet-innocent world woulf be cherished by someone who loved her, intensely, as she loved him. Holding the box tightly in her hands, she stepped out of the room and into the bright sunshine.