The course back was even worse, and I couldn't wait for it to stop. But hark, we are here at last! Never did I truly believe that I would see my Adelaide yet again. When I first arrived, I travelled back to the old town we used to live at together. To my dismay, I was informed that she had sought guidance after I had left from a good friend of hers, and had moved to be with them. I decided to rest a night, then seek her in the morning. For eighteen hours, I thought of nothing but the look of pure joy that I would see on her face when she realized that I had come back for her. I would stare deeply into her eyes, would lean forward and plant a soft kiss on her lips. Oh, how I yearned to see her again! I could not wait a single moment longer.
I lept from the bed and quickly put on the nicest suit I owned. The Inn I had been staying at did not have baths, so I put on a few puffs of perfume. However, it soon wore off, seeing as I lit a cigarette shortly afterwards. I was only trying to calm my nerves, but it had almost no affect on me. Renting a horse from the breeder down the street, I took off to ride my love once again.
When I arrived at the town in which I had been told she lived, I went up to a fine looking gentlemen standing outside a pub to see if he knew of her. "Excuse me, sir," I requested. "Do you by any chance know a Miss Adelaide, Miss Adelaide Britney?" He looked quiet annoyed at having been bothered at such a late hour, but he answered my question nonetheless.
"Yeah, fine looking broad she is, huh?" He had a strong Scottish accent. "She lives with Mr. Grenger, in that little house down yonder," he informed me, pointing to a small house just below the hill. But something he had said stuck with me.
"Do you mean to say she's living with a man?" I asked, astonished.
"Looks so," he replied, unfazed by my sudden yell.
"Do you think that could be her brother, or maybe an uncle?" I just couldn't believe that it could be true. Our love was eternal, she would never leave me when I had promised to come back and get her one day.
"Listen now," the man was getting annoyed by my pestering, it seemed. "It ain't any of my damn business what that lady's up to now, is it? I don't know nothin' else, so move on, son!" I turned and began walking down the road towards her supposed house. There's just no way. It couldn't be true.
Could it?
YOU ARE READING
Theodore's Journal
Ficção HistóricaHistorical Narrative that I wrote, it's the journal of a British merchant in the 1700s, named Theodore. He wishes to go back to England in order to see his love. Except when he gets his wish, it doesn't exactly go as he planned.
