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Your Number One

DISCLAIMER: The following is of fictional work and should not be taken seriously or be accounted for actual facts in any way. It is not aim to confuse or mislead anyone for that matter. It is not meant to offend or disrespect any of the artists mentioned in the work either. Its purpose only serves to entertain and share with other fans who also like those artists. Thank you for reading.

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It began one late autumn day when the final leaves had fallen from its trees, withering in the gust of the winds. She was standing by the bridge inhaling what was left of that fresh autumn air. It was only a matter of time before winter arrived with its yearly invasion, promising coldness and its dark blanket enveloping the atmosphere the coming three months. Unforeseen to the eyes of many, she was standing so peacefully by the bridge with so much carefree caressing her face that made it surreal. Her extraordinary aura standing in the wind made it seem like she just reinvented the season with so much hope, reviving all living forces that wanted to wither away just like the rest of the scenery that encompassed it these past months. She was as delicate as a transparent vase hidden away for the sake of protection. But she did not show any traces of fragility. Contrary to her exterior form, she was the bravest and the most daring person I’ve ever met.
Perhaps those beautiful images were meant to last only for a short time just like anything we all come to know of. Because that cheerful angel ceased her existence from my life just as fast as I became aware of her presence.

*****

‘It began one late autumn day when the final leaves had fallen from its trees, withering in the gust of the winds. She was standing by the bridge waiting for the next ferry. I couldn’t help but noticed her extraordinary aura as she was standing in the wind. She was as delicate as a transparent vase hidden away for the sake of protection. But she didn’t show any traces of fragility. Contrary to her external image, she was the bravest and the most daring person I’ve met.’
Wallace tapped on the ‘Backspace’ key once again, letting out another sigh of defeat. Had he lost it already? Was he no longer capable of developing a more original plotline? He glanced at the wall clock, recognizing its familiar wooden frame with the silver gong striking back and forth, producing its usual tick-tock sound along with the unchanged rhythm. Perhaps it was better if he took a break first. He abandoned his task after saving his work and shutting off the laptop, grabbing his coat and scarf on the way to the door.
Stepping outside, he gave the horizon a brief scan before stepping off his porch. It was going to be another cold, autumn day. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he began the walk.
He stopped when he reached the outskirt of town. The wind was picking up. He grabbed a hold of his scarf, tightening it around his neck. A cold was all he needed to end his writing career.
He proceeded after choosing the left path, leading toward the bridge. It was the same bridge that was in the story he barely started awhile back at the cabin. It was not a bad idea to visit it at such a time. A casual walk usually did him some good. He expected the same of this one.
What was it like to stand around on such a bridge and wait for someone or something to arrive? What was it really like? If he only knew. Why was he pondering of such a thing without an experiment? He increased his pace toward the bridge, knowing it was just up ahead. He waved to some people passing him in the early morning’s light, making their way to the stores opening up for business. The water loomed ahead, giving him a comforting view despite the chilling gust of wind lashing by with its attack more rapidly than the previous. He stopped ten feet from the bridge, observing its movements. It was as affected by the wind as the rest of its nature companions. The tree next to the bridge swayed with its lifeless branches, threatening to give way to the forceful wind.
Just as he was about to resume his pace, he spotted a girl approaching the bridge from the opposite side from where he was standing. He wrinkled his eyebrows, feeling the familiarity and anticipating the moment that she stepped on the bridge. He held his breath, waiting for the moment to arrive as she ascended the steps, making her way toward his side of the bridge. It was only a matter of time before he knew his answer. He exhaled as soon as he realized that she was waiting for someone. She had stopped a third way across the bridge, maintaining her composure with much tranquility as she waited. It was as he had wanted it to be. It was all he waited for to know the feeling yet he was not taking any actions to investigate. He usually approached strangers and asked them of their feelings, their version of the story. He wanted it to be a realistic picture, whatever it was he was writing at that time. Yet this time, this time, he was just standing there, fascinated by her subtle actions as she stood there, waiting in the wind as the sun began to rise – shining what was possible of a ray onto her, enhancing her features and giving off a radiant touch.
It was that moment that he knew she was not only a character in his story, but also a character in his life.

*****

It began one late autumn day when the final leaves had fallen from its trees, withering in the gust of the winds. She was standing by the bridge inhaling what was left of that fresh autumn air. It was only a matter of time before winter arrived with its yearly invasion, promising coldness and its dark blanket enveloping the atmosphere the coming three months. Unforeseen to the eyes of many, she was standing so peacefully by the bridge with so much carefree caressing her face that made it surreal. Her extraordinary aura standing in the wind made it seem like she just reinvented the season with so much hope, reviving all living forces that wanted to wither away just like the rest of the scenery that encompassed it these past months. She was as delicate as a transparent vase hidden away for the sake of protection. But she did not show any traces of fragility. Contrary to her exterior form, she was the bravest and the most daring person I’ve ever met.
Perhaps those beautiful images were meant to last only for a short time just like anything we all come to know of. Because that cheerful angel ceased her existence from my life just as fast as I became aware of her presence. She had become a fallen angel because she dared to violate the rules, upsetting the course of nature. She made a decision to dip herself into our ordinary world, exchanging her halo for a simplistic tiara, and in becoming my wife.

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*NOTES*:
*This was obviously not meant to be a one-shot
*The story was combined from a prologue and an epilogue (written on September 17th, 2009) and one chapter (written on Wednesday, March 25th, 2009)
*The title was named after a song sang by Wallace “Your Number One” and was inspired by a possible collaboration between Wallace and Tammy
*The story was revised on Tuesday, July 5th, 2011

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