Unrequited Lovers

The sun gently rose above the horizon, calmly warming the grass blades covering the hillside. A small cottage lay nestled in between the forest and the adjacent hill. To the untrained eyes of the various migrants that might come across it on their journey the little cottage looked run down and almost desecrated. No one ever cared enough to take a second glance at the cottage, but that was exactly the way Herb wanted it.
The cottage had been in his family for years. The generation before him had generously left it to him, along with all the keepsakes that were inside. Herb often worried what would become of it after he left the earth, for he had no children to inherit it. He adored his little cottage. His days were filled with insignificant little deeds and chores affiliated with the cottage.
He worked diligently, his lips occasionally whistled one of the folk tunes native to the hillside. The local creatures of the forest all loved and adored him. They never ate from his garden, for he left them trays of food beside the birdbaths regularly. With a smile he would watch them feast on their miniature banquet that he had provided. Sometimes the boldest would come and sit beside him and allow Herb to pet their heads as a gesture of thanks.
Although Herb had numerous furry admirers, he longed for an individual that he could actually communicate with. Finding a mate had certainly crossed his thoughts but he just couldn’t justify the longing enough to even think of deserting his cottage. His dreams were filled with an atrocious desire to be able to touch, love, and cherish the woman body. Often Herb would find himself awaking with a start in the dead of night after witnessing the beauty of some nameless matron. He would calmly center himself, brush the sweat from his forehead, and return to his slumber.
These dreams that haunted his very existence were not totally meaningless. Although most of them contained random women, a select few featured his one and only love, Laura. The girl that lived a few miles down the cobblestone terrace that he had once dated continued to fill his thoughts. Her ebony locks and ocean blue eyes intruded his mind, twisting and jerking his subconscious into a state of mitigated agony.
Laura had rejected him once. After he had finished his schooling and was ready to settle down, he noted to her that the things between them had to start becoming more serious or they had to go their own ways. Laura, still being free-spirited and a bit immature, confessed to not being ready to commit herself to him just yet. She left shortly after graduation, and Herb never saw her again.
His memory of her leaving and not turning back flashed in his memory time after time. The fact that bothered him most was that she inflicted no remorse in her words. His unrequited love for Laura never ceased to frustrate him. Why didn’t she adore him as he did her? Why didn’t she spend time mulling over the slight chance that they could ever be as one once again?
One day while Herb tended his garden, one of his memories of Laura attacked his reason and he found himself traveling down the cobblestone terrace toward the direction of his love. Before he could rationalize with himself enough to turn back, his stride had quickened and thrust him forward.
Soon he came to well maintained abode with green shutters surrounded by a lush lawn. Children carrying small objects were seen running around, their laughter warmed his ears. A few of them stopped their various games and observed the newcomer. The boldest of them blocked his way.
“Watcha doing here mister?” the kid said. His hair was slightly ruffled from the breeze. A few of the other kids began to stop their activities as well. 1

“I am here to see Laura. Is she here?” The children all gasped simultaneously. Herb wondered what he had said to offend them so, but never had the chance to ask. Just then a tall, wiry woman with determined features and her graying hair brushed back into a constricting bun came marching down to the crowd. 2

“Who are you and what do you want?” she demanded. Herb opened his mouth to speak.
“He wants to see Laura!” the bold kid stated. The wiry woman narrowed her eyes at Herb after shouting for the children to scatter. They obeyed, almost instantly returning to their games as if no one had obstructed them.3

“Come with me. There is something you should see.” Herb figured that there was no harm in following, for she was rather small in stature. No real damage could be inflicted by her alone.
She led him into the manor, up the grand staircase, and into a library. She turned to him.
“You are Herb, or am I mistaken?” the woman asked, raising one of her thin eyebrows. Herb nodded his head.
“How did you know my name?” he inquired curiously. 4

“Let’s just say that everyone around here knows who you are.” The woman answered with a sly smile. Herb didn’t catch the obscure emphasis in which she specified everyone. She continued while studying him with a calculating glance.5

“Do you know where Laura is? I need to see her.” Herb asked, cutting to the chase.
“All in good time, Herb.” The woman said while raising her bony finger at him. She gestured for him to take a seat in one of the handsome armchairs in the corner of the room. He obliged. She made sure that he had seated himself before turning to the largest of the many bookshelves and extracting a rather dusty volume. She brought it over to him and laid it in his lap.
The volume had a nice leather finish with gold embroidering. Herb rubbed the dust off in order to read the title of the book. He gave a questioning glance up to the woman’s face.
“I believe it was meant for you. Laura spent years on it. She always did love art. ” She stated, smiling in encouragement. Herb nodded before opening the album.
Inside there was a beautiful canvas of himself in his early twenties. He smiled, gently running his fingers along it. It was him in every way. She had seized his very essence in a miraculous way. He flipped the next page.
There he was again. And again. All throughout the album he was there. Each folio contained him. In some he was alone, in others he was walking beside a beautiful woman that also looked to be in her twenties. As Herb continued to make his way through the folio, his heart began to long and ache for Laura. He finished wading through it a few more times before he attempted to hand it back to the woman.
“No, it’s yours now. I don’t really see the need to hold on to it when it is so obviously meant for you to have.” Herb nodded and kept the folio at his side. His face became overcome with desperation.
“Tell me where she is. I need to find her.” He begged. The woman gave a nod before scribbling something on a ticket.
“You should find her here. This is her most recent address.” She handed it to him. He thanked her before abruptly exiting the library. He almost ran down the stairs, his folio in hand, and out the door.
The children all stopped their activities as he outdistanced them. His only thoughts were of his now requited love. All these years Laura hadn’t forgotten him. She must have thought about him every day in order to fill the entire folio with his face. Herb hurried down the road, towards the location of the general area of the address. He knew that it was in the Funeral District of town.
He continued to follow the signs of the road until he came to the right number. His heart stopped in his body altogether as he beheld the sign over the address.6

“It can’t be…” he breathed. He glanced down at his ticket. The words matched to the tee. Shaking his head, he collapsed in front of the gate.
Crying out, his tears overwhelmed him and he wallowed in his anguish. He felt as if his last bit of hope had been shredded into a million useless slices.
Herb never let his eyes travel to the curved entrance of the Western Hill Cemetery.7

I always loved her…8

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