Location: Norwich Cathedral
Actors: a 50+ year old man
a similarly aged woman.
I thought by writing it in story form it would enable to me have a much more visual idea of how I want it.
A autumnal wind blew straight through the nave of the vast cathedral, one solitary flame right at the centre of the globe of candles puffed out. One man placed his scarf further around him to block the chill, whilst doing so he cocked his head to the side, obviously in reflection of the demise of the flame. Staring for a a little longer the thought about the correlation between the cinders and the reason for someone lighting it in the first place.
He shook this thought off, immediately not wanting to delve deeper into unsettling thoughts that his subject could unearth.
He decided it was best for him to move himself away. Slowly he got up, mimicking the actions of the other visitors in Norwich Cathedral. As he walked slowly through the building he tried to pretend that he was interested in the architecture. Truth being, once in his prime the architecture and religious symbolism would have evoked much joy, however today nothing could stimulate him.
Not really noticing or caring where he was going he almost stumbled through the door on his right, leading to the cloisters. Through his peripheral vision he saw a women with a familiar figure, "It cant be" he thought. This snapped him out of his melancholy, reflective stance. Three hairs pricked up on the back of his neck, his breathing became ragid.
Contradicting the slow pace of the cathedral he picked up speed, in his walking, first jogging quickly evolving to a run. He was a determined to get a glance of this woman once more. His heart beat now rapid, and thumping on his throat, all of the blood drained from his face.
He stopped abruptly when he reached the corner of the quadrangle cloisters. Peeking his head around the corner he couldn't see anyone. Then a delicate hand tapped him on his tense shoulder, he spun around. Immediately all hope was bleed from him. Disappointment swept over his body like a disease and the corner of his eyes flooded with tears.
He did not even hear the woman ask "are you alright"? In a fit of paradoxical emotions he dragged himself to the nave of the cathedral, biting the insides of the insides of his cheeks to hold back his swelling tears. He wondered how irrational and stupid he must have been. 'It must have been grief'' he sighed to himself.
Reaching the globe of flames that had first caught his attention he picked up a small white candle and lit it off another. He looks upwards, his eyes catch a huge statue of Jesus Christ. ''To death do us part'' he whispers. Placing the candle back in the holder ''how could i think it was her?'' he questions himself while making the short descent out of the Cathedral. Every bone, muscle, limb aching from the grief of him losing his one true love. His wife.
He shook this thought off, immediately not wanting to delve deeper into unsettling thoughts that his subject could unearth.
He decided it was best for him to move himself away. Slowly he got up, mimicking the actions of the other visitors in Norwich Cathedral. As he walked slowly through the building he tried to pretend that he was interested in the architecture. Truth being, once in his prime the architecture and religious symbolism would have evoked much joy, however today nothing could stimulate him.
Not really noticing or caring where he was going he almost stumbled through the door on his right, leading to the cloisters. Through his peripheral vision he saw a women with a familiar figure, "It cant be" he thought. This snapped him out of his melancholy, reflective stance. Three hairs pricked up on the back of his neck, his breathing became ragid.
Contradicting the slow pace of the cathedral he picked up speed, in his walking, first jogging quickly evolving to a run. He was a determined to get a glance of this woman once more. His heart beat now rapid, and thumping on his throat, all of the blood drained from his face.
He stopped abruptly when he reached the corner of the quadrangle cloisters. Peeking his head around the corner he couldn't see anyone. Then a delicate hand tapped him on his tense shoulder, he spun around. Immediately all hope was bleed from him. Disappointment swept over his body like a disease and the corner of his eyes flooded with tears.
He did not even hear the woman ask "are you alright"? In a fit of paradoxical emotions he dragged himself to the nave of the cathedral, biting the insides of the insides of his cheeks to hold back his swelling tears. He wondered how irrational and stupid he must have been. 'It must have been grief'' he sighed to himself.
Reaching the globe of flames that had first caught his attention he picked up a small white candle and lit it off another. He looks upwards, his eyes catch a huge statue of Jesus Christ. ''To death do us part'' he whispers. Placing the candle back in the holder ''how could i think it was her?'' he questions himself while making the short descent out of the Cathedral. Every bone, muscle, limb aching from the grief of him losing his one true love. His wife.
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