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MTee: By the time first snow falls down

Mab Tee
By the time first snow falls down


He was lying undressed on the bed, on his stomach. During the long decades his skin has paled. Those deep furrows formed on his face have made him even more handsome, while the furrows on my face have made me ugly. I wished I had known what he was thinking about, but I could not see into his head. Anyways, the masculine way of thinking was not for me indeed, although I did imagine several times what it would be like if I were him. With little success, I can say.

The frequent and passionately noisy times we had together in the beginning have calmed down into tranquil rendezvous after the birth of our children. Years passed quickly, and those amorous hours that were becoming less and less frequent have turned into pleasing, but exhausting pastimes.

He used to say this several times:
“If I could make a choice, I would like to die in your arms.”
At such times I was always astounded, and once when he said these words again I asked him:
“What would I do without you?”
“You are a strong woman, you’ll think of something,” he said with a faint smile under his moustache.
He looked a little pale as he turned on his back on the double bed. His eyes were shining mysteriously.

“Could you please bring me a glass of water? My mouth is so dry.”
“Sure thing, I’ll get it right away along with your medicines.”

I put on my wrapper and walked towards the bathroom.
The mirror – my enemy – showed me the truth cruelly. The blooming youth of my skin had definitely slipped away over time. Suddenly I felt someone touch my shoulder softly.
You are so beautiful. I love you.

I turned around, but I was standing all alone in the middle of the bathroom.
In the kitchen, I poured some cold mineral water in a glass, then I took the glass and the medicines to the bedroom.

“Sit up, here’s your water! You shouldn’t fall asleep now.”
I lay on the bed next to him. I started to stroke him gently, supposing he might wake up, but he did not even quiver.
“Come on, wake up! Stop fooling around!”
I tickled the tip of his nose, hoping that he will suddenly scare me as he always does.
Unintentionally, I put my fingers on his artery: it was not pulsating. I put my ear on his chest to hear his heartbeat. It took minutes until I realized that there was nothing to hear anymore.
“You cannot leave me here, not yet!”
Through the blur of my tears his face obscured, then after a blink it sharpened again.
You received countless slaps in the face from Life, but you always pulled yourself together and moved on – I heard the familiar whispering from behind my back.
I swiftly ran my eyes over his naked body.


They just cannot see him like this! I took his cotton underpants from the drawer and I looked for his pajamas, the light blue ones with dark blue stripes, which I used to call “grandpa-dress”. It took a long time to dress him up. In the meantime, it came to my mind that I could actually dress him in his black suit right away. I put a pillow comfortably under his head, folded his hands together and placed them on his chest. Then I gently covered him.

I dropped into the armchair with the phone in my hands, and I sat gazing into space for long minutes.
Again, as always, keeping me waiting! – he nagged at me peacefully.
I aimlessly scrolled through my contacts on the phone.
The children. Call the children!
Time stopped. The cell phone fell on my lap; my fingers did not want to obey.
Woman!
I quivered. I snapped up the cell phone, I looked up the number of my son and I called him. I told him in slurred words what had happened. After we finished our conversation I did not know what to do.

- What am I to do now?

You will be writing, just as before. Write a novel about our life. Show the world that lifelong love does exist, and please do not write it under your pseudonym like those rose-red, mushy books of yours. Have your real name printed on it!
An anthology of poems was lying on the side table, next to the armchair. He bookmarked the page he last read. I opened the book there, and on the right-hand page I found a three-line poem that read:

„Sweet-smelling dew does transform into ice
through hills evanescence is dashing past
Will there ever be spring again?