Romantic Short Stories

The Relativity of Life

The Relativity of Life

Sabrina flipped the sign to open her new store. She converted the first floor of the old Victorian into a gallery to showcase her art for sale. No sooner did she put the coffee on did she hear the tinkling of a silver bell.

She beamed, her first customer. So excited she went out to see. "Good morning!"

The man looked at her and gave her a lazy smile. "Well, hello." Outside of his momentary greeting, the man continued to ignore her as he took his time looking around the place. Sabrina noticed he didn't seem all that interested in her watercolor paintings and began to feel nervous.

She went behind the counter where the register was found. There she knew she had a silent alarm button, mace, and a gun someone licensed her to use. All parts of her arsenal should a criminal dare to rob her.

"Are you new to town?" the stranger asked.

"Relatively new. I've moved here a few months ago, and you?"

"Lived here my whole life. Can't seem to escape the place."

Sabrina felt a little relieved learning he was a local. "Can't imagine why you would want to. It's so beautiful here."

He looked at her with a tinge of sadness in his eyes. He toyed with his cufflink and appeared almost shy. Sabrina found herself warming to him.

He pulled his attention away from her and focused on one of her limited editions. "Is that what drew you to this place? The beauty of nature you've managed to capture in all its simplicity in these paintings?"

Sabrina stepped away from the counter and joined him. "Thank you for the compliment on my work. I guess it's one reason I was drawn here."

She knew it would be silly for her to explain that she's been drawn to this town the moment she passed through it a few months ago and had seen this house. Sabrina knew she had to live here. She wished she could explain how the town, the house could affect her so completely, that she'd pick up her life and change everything. But she could not. Midlife crisis, maybe?

She sold her condo in the city, bought this house, and started painting in a flurry. Soon she realized she had enough work to open a gallery and that was pretty much her whole story as to how and why she came to be there.

"This place you purchased has quite the history."

"It does?" Sabrina looked at him eagerly. "How so?" She had scoured the library archives and talked with a local councilman to get the permits to restore the place. Although she was told the permits would not be a problem there were no records to be found. Even though she was fairly certain the building was historical to the town.

"How interesting is, I guess, a matter of relativity?"

"All of life is relative is it not?" Sabrina offered hoping he would tell her more.

He looked down at her and smiled. "That it is, but I find its relativity extremely limited."

"Limited how so?"

"Well take the moral impulse for example. It is an illusion, is it not? Just our own mind creating barriers for its own purposes."

"Is this your ingenious way of asking me out, Mr...?"

"Spears, Randy Spears." He took her hand in his and she felt drawn to him in the same way that she did the town and the house. She didn't want to let go. She did but not before asking, "May I sketch you, Mr. Spears?"

"Only if you allow me to make you dinner."

"Make me? We could go out if you like. No need to..."

"But you just asked if you could draw me. If I make dinner, we can accomplish both our goals in one memorable evening."

When he said memorable, Sabrina had no idea just how memorable he had planned to make it. They spent the day together in that house. No interruptions from the outside world. She drew his portrait, he cooked her a delicious dinner and they both agreed that moral relativity did not exist, only this one perfect moment in time, and even time was relative.

Sabrina worked on the portrait well into the night. When she finished Randy picked her up, she laughed as he carried her up the stairs to the bedroom. They made love until overtaken by sheer exhaustion. They slept all night, quite content in each other's arms. Sabrina was not even disheartened when she woke up the next morning and found him gone, for she felt certain she would see him again.

The silver bell tinkled. Sabrina raced into the room but it was not Randy standing in her shop but the councilman with her permits. "Hello Sabrina, I can see you settled in well here."

"Thank you. I've tried," Sabrina said striving not to feel too disappointed.

"I have the permits you wanted," the man said walking around, taking in her gallery of paintings. He stopped in his tracks when he'd seen the watercolor on an easel. "I guess we couldn't keep this house's history from you after all."

Sabrina frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you got a portrait of the previous owner right here," the man pointed to the painting confused.

"Randy Spears owned this house?"

"That's right. Right up until he killed himself when his wife left him for another man. That was over 10 years ago. The anniversary of his death was yesterday. A rather tragic story really."

When he'd seen her frown he added, "Sorry, we didn't tell you Sabrina but we feared if you found out you might not want the place. None of the locals would go near it. Some believed it was haunted," he added with a nervous chuckle.

"A haunted house? How silly is that?" Sabrina reasoned. 

The councilman gave her an awkward smile before bidding her goodbye. Sabrina sipped her coffee and stared at the portrait wondering two things. Would she ever see Randy again and do ghosts really eat broccoli?"