We decided to be extra nice to our lovely viewers. & so, as we promised 'daily entertainment' (which we havent fulfilled very well.. but we're working on it), we give you SIX WHOLE DAYS of continuous .. english major work stories!

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The day has come. The day I will finally see her again. Closing my eyes, I reminisce the day I first met her. Her long chestnut brown hair tinted with gold, billowing in the wind. She was running towards me, a huge smile on her face, flashing her perfectly straight teeth, her red dress dancing in the breeze. How I long to see her smile again.

“Sir, the usual?”
I snap back into reality. A man with hazel green eyes is staring back at me with an amused expression, the corners of his mouth moving in an upward direction. Returning the smile, I watch one of his buttons break loose from his tightly fitted pale blue collared shirt.
“Yeah, red poppies please.”

--

It was her 26th birthday. Her parents had planned a huge celebration, to replace the 21st she never had. I went into her room, to convince her to join the party, which she did not want. She was seated on her double bed, filled with soft yellow cushions, looking intently at a photo. I sat down on a wooden chair and waited for her to break the silence.

“He’s gone, you know? My brother…” she began, tears running down her face, “I always thought he would return… but I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything…”

She paused to look at me before continuing.

“The day before he left to go to Afghanistan, he only said one word to me”, she said, in between sobs, “Poppy. He had folded me a paper flower and promised me that as long as the poppy lived, so would he. I ripped the flower up, angry that he had left me with our parents…”

That night, she slowly began to open up. And I learned of all the guilt she had pent up inside of her. We spent all night in her room talking, she sung while I played the guitar, until we were too tired to even get up. For the first time in months, she beamed her gentle smile once again. As I left her house, I remember thinking to myself that my life couldn’t possibly get better, if only I knew how wrong I was…

--

“Toronto to Sydney, now landing”
My heart races rapidly. Soon I will be able to tell her everything I have longed to say. I watch, as loved ones return to their families, as little children run into their father’s arms.

--

I remember waking up early the next morning, to buy red poppies for her, as a promise that I would never leave. I ran up the familiar steps to her house, not bothering to knock. I was too excited to wait even another minute to see her. I went into her room, finding it empty, with her bed unmade and clothes lying everywhere. Still grasping flowers in my hand, I searched the living room, where purple and silver balloons were still dangling on the ceiling from the previous night. I called out her name again and again, but the only response was the echo of my own voice.

On the showcase cabinet laid a piece of paper ripped hurriedly from a notepad. The writing was very messy, almost illegible, as if it had been written in a rush. A few words were smudged and I could almost feel the tears falling from her eyes as she wrote.

Antonio,
Do you remember the Christmas party we went to last year? You asked me what was worrying me and I said nothing. I talked to everyone but you that night, and not once did you yell at me. That was the night I began trusting you. Yesterday, I learned the real truth about my brother’s death. I trust that, for one more time, you will believe me and let me go. I’ll miss the times we spent together. You were always there when I most needed it. As you read this, I will be heading to the airport.

This won’t be our goodbye- it is only a note to say I’ll see you soon.

My hands shook as I read the last line over and over again. “I’ll see you soon…” It was at that moment that I realized it wasn’t too late. I jumped into my car and drove as fast as my second hand Toyota could take me.

I had arrived at the airport, but found no sign of her. I searched every flight, every toilet, every souvenir shop… I remember sitting down at a café, reading the headlines for clues that might solve the mystery.

--

“London to Sydney, arriving at 11:58pm”
I take a glance at my watch. Only 14 minutes until she arrives. I sit down on a chair and pick up the newspaper, noticing how much has changed since I last read the paper.

And for the countless time I’ve watched today, I see loved ones return home. I see some people entering a new country for the first time, with eyes full of joy and excitement. Yet, she hasn’t come…

I look up to see a pilot stare back at me. His eyes look tired and creases on his forehead are beginning to form.
“Is there anyone left on that flight?” I ask.
“I’ve checked the plane several times. No, there’s no one left”, he replies, “maybe the next flight.”
My eyes droop down and fill with tears as I avoid his gaze.
“I’ve been…” I stammer, “I’ve been waiting for ‘the next flight’ for 6 years now…”

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