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Monday, April 28, 2008

An Unnamed One-shot

“Acting was her life”, she said as she looked into the field not turning to him, “and now she found another.”

A young man in his twenty’s was watching her—conversing with her. He said, “She couldn’t have found another life! That would be too silly!” In his gentleman manner, he said it precariously.

“Silly, as you call it, it is not.” retorted Victoria Valor—a splendid young thing that punctuated beauty as she is the new beginning of it, with her raven hair and jubilant ayes of olive that went with full lips in a petite petal of a face and a dainty body which was, outstanding to know, as strong as an ox. Victoria could have any man. Any man at all. She was of nobility and had genius implanted on her mind but never in it because of fear that it will drain out her beauty. She knew of genius but never attempted to be one—she couldn’t face it alone and she admitted it to the man she was with one afternoon while talking about an actress on a balcony in Bauldelaire Manor.

“When an actress acts, she indulges in her story, in the stage life. She never turns to the world because her only calling is the stage. The only thing real is your act—nothing can be greater.”

Then a sordid look of indignation and joy struck her face with melancholy as an after effect. The young man by the name of Tristan Chale Golbert stepped closer with the offer, “You don’t have to explain.”

“I refuse to refuse my genius not be in me and instead of just knowing genius of others.” the lady voiced. Then—“LOVE! Oh, love is such a folly that life cannot do without and ever be with! It makes us real to reality and sense our senses but releases us of our care. CARE! Care for the stage is what the actress denounced! Her life is for her lover and never more to the stage, once her life. CARE! Of another care, there is selfishness—To think on one’s own, never to be at one with another, taking in all of life’s beauty and to be enthralled alone. But is there really a beau without love?”

With that she looked at the 20-year-old man beside her and asked with tenacious and intrepid sparkling eyes, “Are you such a man that can do that to an actress?”

He paused. Walked over to the refined lady and said, “I don’t believe so.”

She turned away. Victoria Valor said all she had got to keep her vile personality at bay. She hated herself for procrastinating as every proper lady did. And, this, for her, was vile.

“The world is forgotten on stage—“, she continued, “the actors and actresses, the audience melt away with the scenery. The world is sinful and cannot face itself as well as its people cannot face the world in frank. But—“

“In Love, there’s life… and I love you.” Lord Tristan Chale confessed.

Victoria’s voice resided in her echoing her powerful words but when the words of words slipped from the young man’s lips, she, like the world, melted into the scene proper and asked, “Would you like to propose to me?” The man stood in shock before the new thing that sprouted like a laburnum in front of him—he wasn’t attracted to her beauty but to her beau like soul, intelligence and love. She was born anew; not more than the ladies of London, she was not.



Insanely me ;)

2 comments:

  1. nice. there may be some words that are too deep for my understanding and perhaps a couple of typo glitches but overall, it's a nice venture. keep it up and more power!!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Talentless FreakMay 13, 2008 at 1:42 PM

    Thanks. I promise to make the typos go away next time. I didn't beta-read this, after all.

    ReplyDelete

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