The symphonic art of a soul that cries at the loss of a love and the beginning of a new life meet before a new dawn full of possibilities and before the bitterness of the death of a sunset as warm as the breeze in summer
.....
The clock advances without delay while an annoying tick tock enlivens the atmosphere that is as calm as winter on a vacation beach. The room is completely illuminated although darkness still reigns in much of it. At a small table, a beautiful woman in silk pajamas looks for the fourth time at the art she was trying to create
Myra snorts into the air when she notices that her mermaid's nose isn't as straight as she expected, and that and the fury of the clock's sound causes another finely crafted wooden pencil to break in her soft hands. She had never had the patience to become an artist according to her mother even though her piano teacher had a different opinion
Furiously tearing up the sheet that only had a few faded and questionable lines on it, he turned his attention completely to the creator of his bad mood. It was seven to twelve the last time he looked at him, now it was almost one in the morning and he didn't like that at all. Taking a small pink coat, a gift from her father for her first month of marriage, she prepared to go down to the main room
If in the empty room everything was in perfect equality between darkness and light, then the other parts of the house were an abysmal void between night and day. The maids had taken care of turning off all the lights and removing all the dirt from the house before going to sleep, Myra couldn't be happier with this. She hated being forced to act domestically, especially when her husband forced her to behave like the model, self-sacrificing wife she had hated so much when she was a child and looked up to her parents
Unfortunately Myra, like many other children born into peculiar families, had had the bad luck of being the daughter of a ruined marriage. She had spent much of her life listening to arguments and fights between her parents, she had been forgotten for some time during her childhood by her frivolous parents who had more important things on their minds, yet despite having hated every minute of her existence with his parents, of hating who they were and the relationship in which they lived. She ended up looking more like her mother than she would have liked
Her husband was not equal to her father. No, her husband did not need to have more than two lovers living with his own wife daily, nor did he need to drink to show signs of affection or remorse, not at all, her husband was even worse than her father
Myra took a seat with an inelegant posture on one of the comfortable sofas in the main room, she had chosen them herself when they bought that enormous and majestic house, her husband had left the decoration in her hands although Myra knew that he secretly delighted in the terrible decoration that she had chosen herself in her inexperience
Her husband was like that, he looked at the world as if only a few were worth it. She still remembers him at the University when she met him, dull eyes, distant look and very handsome, her ex-boyfriend Kang, in a fit of jealousy, one day called him a lucky bastard after seeing how he rejected all the girls who approached him, Although Myra did not agree with that tasteless nickname at the time, for her he was a "god of the studio" or one of the models of the contemporary paintings that I admired. She was so young and so hopeful that they started dating a few months after she broke up with Kang and he returned to the United States with his adoptive parents. They had a fabulous start, he was a gentleman and she was at that age where we don't know what we really want for our life. Her parents exploded with happiness when they found out about the marriage, everything had been just as the teenager Park Myra had dreamed of in her romantic teenage years
Unfortunately dreams end one day and reality is too hard for some people. Smiling condescendingly she adjusted her position on the couch if her husband came by surprise and found her in such a situation maybe he would reprimand her like she always did. She looked at the next table where her husband's favorite drink was but she quickly denied it. He hated that she drank, he said it wasn't the typical temperament a woman should have, Myra made fun of it and sometimes she felt like stabbing the innocent table knife into her perfect black eyes until everything was painted red
It was around two thirty when he decided to go to his room to rest. She knew that her husband hated that she slept without him first, but seeing him now she knew that she would arrive tomorrow, maybe the day after tomorrow depending on the work that the new investors had left her
With a calm and relaxed step she prepared to go to her room like every night and take half a bottle of painkillers to sleep, however she was interrupted when the phone beeped loudly announcing a new call. The first thing that came to Myra's mind was surprise. Who dares to call at this hour? Then she looked at the registered number and a grimace appeared in her eyes
— Dear, I thought you said you would arrive early — he exclaimed in a low voice, however the other party did not speak anything, on the contrary he only heard breathing too quickly, almost frightened, and what seemed to be ambulance sirens — Dear — he repeated, this time someone spoke
— Excuse me. Are you Mr. Jeon Jungkook's wife? — asked a voice unknown to Myra
— Yes, what's up with that? Who are you and why do you have my husband's phone number? —the doubt grew and something formed in his stomach
—I'm Chief Gu of the fire department. I'm sorry to say, Mrs. Jeong, but your husband just had an accident on the road. His car collided with another and... – the pause ended everything – He died seconds after everything happened. I'm sorry, Mrs. Jeong. I'm sorry for your loss ---- It's a shame that Myra stopped paying attention to you
Her husband had died. Unfortunately
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