On Answers

“Will you still love me if I turn ugly and old?”, the question sprang out of nowhere as they sat in the car waiting for the rain to stop. “I will,” she said. “How about if I turn into an evil person? like really really bad.” “How bad?”, she tried to make things precise. “Really bad, like if I murder one of your family members.” She turned silent. “I’ll still love you.” “How could you still love me? I murdered your sister for God’s sake! That is the worst possibility I could even think of right now.” “I will still love you, but it doesn’t mean that I will not turn you into jail or something.” “When I get out of jail, can we still see each other like before?” “I don’t know. I might need a while I don’t know how long, but I will still love you.” There’s something that sickened him but he didn’t know what. He drove her home that night without a word, hoping that she would come up with a different answer but she didn’t. “Do you want me to walk you to the door?” he touched her hand as they arrived. “No no you don’t have to, you’ll catch a cold, it’s still raining.” She kissed him good night. He smiled. It was the 9 of December. She never heard of him again since then.

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