Keeley Schroder February Challenge
February Challenge (Day Six)
Day 6: The most romantic gift I’ve ever received.
The stories I write are of my own invention, they belong to no one else but me, they are what I feel, what I need. They are my cries, my despairs, my jubilation, and my triumphs. I can’t understand why I was chosen, but for God’s sake I’ve done my best to bring beauty to the world in which I live. I’ve been blessed in such a way that I can hardly relate to people anymore, I’m confused all the time. My whole body wants to reach out to people, say hey, listen, how are you? Tell me what’s happening, I need to know.
Gifts are special, and to think of one, a most romantic gift, well, then, I had it in my mind to explain Antarctica to you. But how do I describe the unimaginable? A place where one can yell to one’s heart is content, and its echo will never come back. But there is this to tell you. The Antarctic sunset happens half an inch above the ice. So, picture, if you will, a setting sun that contains no colour found in a rainbow, yet sinks with an incomparable beauty, setting the ice on fire, a pink flame until the Atlantic Ocean extinguishes it, and everything becomes still. Gone.
And all that is left you and the gift of working for Greenpeace.
But look, this isn’t what Keeley wants to know, something more personal, maybe. I bought mince, red peppers, onions, and tomatoes and set myself the adventure of cooking. I reckoned it could not be or should not be too difficult being a man who has eaten raw fish when lost on the ice.
I set out to make something and pasta; the something could not, in my mind anyway, fail to be appetizing. It worked very well, I thought, but sadly the pasta could not be retrieved from the base of the pan. Clearly something wrong with the Teflon. Fortunately, there was bread, four days old, but what the heck.
I sent the pan back to the maker, who had claimed nothing would stick to its base, with a note asking what they think the problem might be. It was a gift from my father, and for which I had a fond attachment.
Okay…okay, that won’t work, I get it. I know what romance means.
It’s not like I haven’t been in love enough times to be reliable on the subject. I read a lot of stories and according to Mr. Mills and Mr. Boon you kiss on the shore, walk off into the sunset, and never look back.
I’ve never been the best at prayers. I was always in trouble at school for praying with my eyes open. It’s just that, well, I want to recommend to you, my one gift, a gift for which I have the honour of safekeeping, the love of Jenny Hogg.
I cannot tell you she is not trouble. I cannot tell you she is not, at times, the greatest pain in the butt, but she has touched people and she has given joy. She is my one true love, my sincere friend, and the gift of her love in my life, is surely one given and blessed by God.
Some of Harry’s favourite responses:
….and so many more beautiful entries at:
Hello, this might be of some interest. If you would like to join Medium as a Member, giving you access to every story I write, and the whole shebang of talented writers on Medium, and you want to join up, read, or earn yourself a few coins writing, please think about using this LINK to become a member. Cost $5. You’ll be gifting me a cup of coffee, and treating yourself to the wonderland of Medium.com💜✍️
