Letters In the Moonlight of Taj Mahal

Letters in the Moonlight of

Taj Mahal

A Romantic Short Story

Jewel Adams

Copyright © 2012, 2017 Jewel Adams

All Rights Reserved.

Lyla Kelly and Marc Hosseini have never met. The forty-seven-year-old widow and mother of grown twin boys doesn't know what to think when she begins receiving letters from the son of an old friend. She never fathomed that Marc, twelve years her junior, could ever be interested in someone like her, especially since they have never even seen one another beyond old photographs. Nor does she count on the passion that his mere words invoke in her.

Go with Lyla and Marc on their journey of discovery, and watch a surprisingly-powerful love bloom between them–a love strong enough to rival the undying adoration that inspired the building of one of the Seven Wonders of the World. The beautiful mausoleum, Taj Mahal.

 "The sight of this mansion creates sorrowing sighs and makes sun and moon shed tears from their eyes. In this world this edifice has been made to display, thereby, the Creator's glory."

Shah Jahan (Badshah Nama)

Agra, India

Dear Marc,

How I long to have you here with me. Though I have always found comfort in our letters, the thought of actually being with you makes our written words pale in comparison.

I have tried to keep myself busy today. I went for my morning walk and you were there with me as usual. Thoughts of you consume every step I take. Even more so today.

I talked with the boys after breakfast, and like clockwork, they immediately asked about you, wanting to know if you'd made it here yet. You guys have never met, yet they are completely taken with you. Why is that?

Dumb question, indeed. You seem to charm everyone by just being you. And you have charmed my grown sons by simply giving me a reason to smile each day.

Oh, heavens, how I ache to be in your arms! Being apart from you is madness. What have you done to me? I have yet to experience your embrace, but I dream of it almost every waking moment. I imagine what your arms will feel like, and the feel of your mouth on mine, the taste of your kiss, and the sensation of your hands holding my face between them, so warm and strong. Oh, how I . . .

Sorry, back to my day.

After doing some laundry, I did a little more sightseeing. I have been trying to pace myself because there are so many things I want to experience with you. You did promise to take me way off the beaten path, remember? And you are going to introduce me to Bollywood! I can't wait. But of course, I will. Hmmm . . . I have heard this Indian superstar, Hrithik Roshan, is a handsome guy. But I'm sure he isn't even in your league.

I long to finally see your face, Marc, and have you see mine, to truly see me, and not just an image from a fifteen-year-old photograph. I hope you will be pleased. I know I will be, because I know your heart, as you know mine. That is what matters. Every now and then when I am tempted to worry about the age difference again, I remind myself of that fact, because I know you would if you were here.

It is dark now, and just like my own, the mouths of other visitors are agape at this magnificent spectacle. I have watched the colors of the grand structure change in the fading light, each shade equally beautiful, just as you told me. The shrine looks milky white in the soft light of the morning, and then it glistens brightly in the afternoon sun like a jewel against the blue sky. Then the moonlight makes it even more majestic and beautiful beyond words. Right now, it is shining like a pearl in a sea of velvet.