The Night Ends | Short Story

Once again, George found himself desperate for sleep but unable to rest. He moaned as he pulled aside the twisted blanket and lumbered out of bed giving little thought to his robe or slippers as the warm, summer night was intensified by the shuttered windows due to the incessant rain. Maybe a bit of milk and cake will help me relax, George thought.

As he made his way from his bedroom to the kitchen by way of the parlor, George barely noticed the silhouette in the corner of the room. If it hadn’t been for the faint singing which caught his attention, he would have passed the figure without a second glance. Though the shadowed figure caught him off guard at first, it was the hauntingly familiar tune he heard that assured him of their identity. Without thinking, he slowly walked over to the figure who was facing the rain streaked window, his bare feet utterly and eerily silent on the wooden floor. The haunting tune had ended, and the room was silent again save the steady breathing of George and the figure at the window.

George’s silent approach did not seem to startle the figure whose gaze never broke from the window. “You shouldn’t be up at this hour.”

“Neither should you, Kate.”

“Why not?”

“Young ladies need rest.”

“So do old men.”

George had to hide a faint grin at Kate’s dry impertinence. He joined her at the window, pretending to look out. He managed a quick, sideways glance down at her soft, childlike face as she never moved her gaze from the window. Her blue eyes sparkled in the pale moonlight filtered through the raindrops. The shadows of the drops on the window slid down her face like tears. Only then did he notice that there were real tears sliding down her cheeks. He returned his gaze to the window. Unsure of what to say, he absent-mindedly began humming the tune he had heard Kate humming when he walked in.

Eventually, and without looking away from the window, Kate said as dryly as she had before, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

The words shocked George, and he abruptly stopped humming.

“I wrote you a letter,” she continued. “I was going to leave it on your desk. I had thought to be gone before you awoke.”

George’s mind was spinning. There were so many things he wanted to say and to ask, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth.

Finally breaking her gaze from the window, Kate turned to look at George who was now staring into the rainy night lost in thought. Tears continued to escape from Kate’s eyes as she searched the face of the man she had come to love for a sign of reciprocated love or, at the very least, a bit of understanding. Once again she returned her gaze to the window as she struggled to hold back the flood of tears.

“Thanks for everything,” she whispered as she choked back the sobs. Not waiting for a response, she turned and ran down the dark corridor leaving George at the window.

How long George stayed at the window staring into the rain is unknown. What he thought about in all that time is just as much a mystery as how long he stood there. Time and thoughts seemed to run together into a muddy puddle soiling and inhibiting everything that passed through it.

Just as George wrapped his mind around what he had hoped was a bad dream, he noticed a sliver of sunlight appear on the horizon. The rain had stopped and the world around him was coming alive as the morning came, but for George, the world ended with the night.

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