Anniversary Chocolates

         Gita lifted the lid of the confectioner’s box and peered inside.  A single, heart-shaped morsel remained, nestled in its bed of decorative pleated paper cups.  They had been married for less than a month when James presented her with the elegant box, just days before reporting to the draft office. 

         “It isn’t much,” he’d said, wishing he could give her more, “but there is one piece of chocolate for you to savor for each monthly anniversary.  When you taste it, remember the sweetness of our love and the beautiful future we will build together when I return.”

         Looking at the box Gita recalled the past eleven anniversaries when she had done as James had asked.  Somehow he’d managed to send her a letter each month; letters that reassured her of his safety and his unending love.  This month, however, no letter had arrived.  She would be unable to read his endearing words as she celebrated their love.

         Blinking back tears, Gita reached into the box but stopped.  What if something has happened? she thought.  Panic rose in her breast threatening to crush the air from her lungs.  What if my James is never coming home? 

         Gita’s trembling fingers ran along the edge of the box, tracing its raised decorative scrollwork patterns of hearts, flowers, and butterflies.  She untied the ribbon holding the passel of letters James had sent, rereading them one by one.  Tears spilled down her cheeks and pooled on the table top as his words warmed and comforted her heart.

         ’My Dearest Gita,’ each letter began.  Through all of the pages he attempted to dispel her fears and anxieties, assuring her of his continued devotion.  As difficult as it was, he found something beautiful to write about in each correspondence.

         ’Butterflies frolicked over the wildflowers, chasing hither and thither then floating lazily on the breeze.  I was reminded of the day we spent at the park, when we ran through the field of daisies then walked back along the stream.  Do you remember, Gita?  It was the day I asked you to marry.’*

         ’The ocean is mesmerizing, my love.  The sparkling blue waters lapping to the sandy shore fix your face clearly in mind, stirring my memories of your glittering blue eyes surrounded by your soft, fair skin.  I live for you and the day I am once more safe in your arms.’

         ’Never have I seen so many stars.  They’re so close I feel I could reach out and touch them, but I’d rather reach out and touch you.  When next it’s night, my Gita, look into the dark sky and find the brightest star you can.  I’ll be looking at that star, too, and thinking of you.’

         ’Today I saw a hummingbird sipping nectar from a bright red trumpet vine.  It was such a beautiful sight, dear Gita, and reminded me of the beauty I shall return home to when this horrid war has ended.’

         Gita dabbed at her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief and got up from the table.  I just can’t do this now she thought, replacing the lid on the chocolate box.  She left the wrinkled letters on the table and tried to busy herself with small household chores but her thoughts remained on James and her gaze kept returning to the box.

         After filling the watering can Gita lovingly inspected the windowboxes filled with geraniums.  They were flowering so abundantly this year that she could pick out her apartment windows while shopping in the open-air market a block away.  She tipped the watering can and allowed the cool liquid to dribble out, gently showering the dust from the plants and nourishing the thirsty soil below.

         “Oh!” she cried in surprise, jumping back as a large insect buzzed past.  She followed it with her gaze, making sure it didn’t come inside.  When it swooped down a second time she realized it wasn’t an insect at all but a hummingbird like the one James had described.  The tiny creature hovered in front of her face, its wings beating so quickly they were a blur.  She marveled at the bird’s bright colors and long narrow beak.

         The bird darted away as suddenly as it had appeared and Gita’s eyes focused on a familiar figure in the street below.  It can’t be, she thought, refusing to believe.

         Closing the window, she returned to the table and tied the ribbon securely around James’ letters.  Gita sniffed and wiped away the last of her tears before smoothing her skirt, grabbing her shopping bag and heading for the door.  “We will celebrate tonight,” she promised softly, touching the letters as if they were alive.

         Gita opened the door and gasped aloud.  “James!” she cried.  “It really is you?”

         James stood in the hallway with his hand poised to knock on the door.  His rucksack dropped to the floor with a thud as his arms embraced his wife.  Gita couldn’t tell if she was shaking from her own sobs or from James’ but it didn’t matter; at least they were shaking together.

         “Happy anniversary, my dearest Gita,” James finally said.  “I have so much to tell you.”

         Gita smiled up at her husband.  “First, we must celebrate.”  She crossed the room and lifted the lid from the confectioner's box.  Her slim fingers gently plucked the heart-shaped morsel from its pleated paper nest, finally emptying the box of its precious contents.  She held it out to James, who carefully bit the dainty treat in half, kissing her fingers as he did.  Gita popped the remaining bit of chocolate in her mouth, savoring its rich creamy texture and divine bittersweet flavor as it melted over her palate.

         “Happy anniversary, my sweet James,” she sighed, comfortably wrapped in his arms.  “Welcome home.”


1000 words

*Dear Reader,

         I did not put 'me' here because it isn't needed.  While grammatically acceptable either way, it is implied by the phrase 'I asked you to marry'.  James would not have said 'I asked you to marry my cousin Joey' so to add 'me' at the end would be to state the obvious.

         It is similar to saying 'Remember when I asked you to dance?'  You could add 'with me' but why?  It is implied because of the nature of the question.  It would be a rare occasion for someone to ask 'Remember when I asked you to dance with Peter?'

         In comparison, consider the possibilities of the same phrase with a different verb:  It was the day I asked you to run.

         That could mean countless things to the reader:  the day I asked you to run downtown; run for office; run around the block; run through the park; tun your fingers through my hair; run away from home; run a series of tests; run the car long enough to warm the interior.  The possibilities are endless.  This verb neds a qualifying noun to make it understood.  'Marry' as used in the story above, doesn't need a qualifier because it is understood.

         The fact that it is understood can be seen in the following statistic:  of 25 reviewers who mentioned this phrase, every one of the 25 said it was missing 'me'.  However, I left another word out elsewhere which I have since fixed.  Twelve people caught it but between them offered four different solutions to correct the error based on their personal preference and how they had interpreted that portion of the story.

         In addition, the phrase in question is within the confines of the quoted portion of a letter, ergo it is given the same linency as dialogue.  Dialogue, being an expression of a character's personality and mannerisms is not always held to the most stringent of grammatical rules because to do so would inhibit the character's true personality from showing through.

         Besides these two points, adding 'me' to the end of the line would be much less poetic; much less romantic.

Today’s challenge was to write a story containing an empty box of chocolates, a hummingbird, and a wrinkled letter.