Lost in Prelude

Shades of garnet, orange and yellow blended well as the sun kissed the horizon. The grass in the lawn was awfully comfortable for walking. The faint salty smell of the sea was blown away by the gentle whispers of the wind breeze. Noise could barely be heard as the place was not yet famous.

    An old lady in black, with her back slightly bent, was heading towards the bench in front of the sea, facing the beauty of the sunset. She knew the moment wouldn't last long. But, she was already old and could only walk slow with the assistance of a young staff and her walking-length frilled black parasol.

    As the young staff brought her to the oak bench, she suddenly stopped. The boy's steps were halted; he glanced at the lady beside him. No matter how much wrinkles had appeared on her face, her captivating and timeless beauty of the decades didn't fade. But her eyes were filled with solemnity as she focused looking at the bench.

    The young boy couldn't help but ask, "Madam, is there something wrong?"

    The old lady shook her head and curved her lips for a faint smile. "No. It's just that..." she paused as her gaze swept from the oak wood to the sunset, "It was my dream."

    "Oh." The boy didn't speak more, afraid that he would be seen as a nosy staff and get fired from his work.

    She gave him another smile and tilted her head. The staff was a bit hesitating but soon left as she ordered.

    She bent slowly to sit down and leaned her parasol on her side. Her eyes looked up at the sunset and watched it calmly as she would ever be. Tears wanted to escape from her but they couldn't. The tears were already spent for the past decades and there was nothing left. But she knew her feelings remained as she finally got this far and lived her dream.

    When she was young, she had a lot of dreams—petty or not. She dreamt of being a beautiful maiden that would make the men bend their knees; to be married and loved thoroughly, truthfully, and wholeheartedly; to have children and grandchildren and guide them until she turns grey; to leave her family's house and name for her to be free; and die at the age of ninety, at the bench on the shore with the sunset as her last memory.

    The latter was the only one filled with uncertainty—unreachable and almost impossible. But—funny yet sad as it was—that was her only dream that came true.

    She lived her life mourning. Mourning for her family, for herself, for the decisions she made, and for the love she didn't fight for.

    And she was sitting there alone. No lover, no children—she didn't have anyone to keep living.  She had enough. She finally reached her last dream.

    It was enough.

    Pity, she couldn't anymore enjoy the scenery before her. It didn't last long.

    "Do you believe in second chances?"

    "I don't."

    She opened her eyes after realizing her fast response. It didn't take her long to notice a man standing beside her—wearing all black. He seemed to be at his early twenties but she could not see his face clearly. It must be her eyesight.

    She tried to sit up straight like what she was taught before; the gaps between generation was forgotten for a moment as no girl would do that at this time.

    "I don't believe in chances. Much more in second chances."

    I believe everything was put in order and absolute. What you have done is done by your own choice and not by chances. And clearly, you cannot repair a broken mirror so second chances didn't exist for me.

    "For you to say that, you must've suffered grievances in your life."

    She nodded without hesitation. "I did."

    The lady didn't know this man but she felt strangely comfortable voicing out little things. After all, she just had her last moment earlier—

    Wait...

    How can this man see me? And talk to me?

    That comfort she felt earlier vanished as fast as light as it dawned her. Her eyes squinted, full of doubts and uneasiness. "Who are you?"

    "This man is only a humble collector."

    "What do you collect?"

    She felt the man smiled between the pause.

    "A tax."

    She sighed, confused if she would accept his words. "Mister, where will you bring this old lady to?"

    "You don't need to be impatient. And to what I see, you're not an old lady. You have this beauty that this man have never seen before."

    "Your such a honey-talker."

    "Then why do you not believe in second chances? The Sky is merciful. If you are good, second chances will be granted."

    He did not drift away. The lady didn't answer him so he proceeded.

    "Have you not experienced grievance before? In one glance, this man can already tell. For sure you have something you want to repair and redo in your life. So why won't you, for once, believe in chances?"

    He was persuasive. So much that it made the lady lost in her thoughts. No one would not understand the fact that she lived her life mourning.  She was a simple person. She had made wrong decisions before but did not regret everything. She didn't believe in chances and could only mourn.

    But then if she changed her perspective just this time,  would the past not happen?

    The man offered his hands happily. She didn't know what it meant but she accepted it.

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