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You worked in a recording studio. The voice you hear is made by the voice over artist. He had left for the day. You were packing up to leave when a strong breeze through the building window blew a piece of paper from its spot on the desk and knocked a drink over. Your boss rushed to help pick up the various objects, you left a little late to begin with so you didn't mind working a bit late to clean up. Your boss was a nice lady, had seen you go through some rough times after you were recently divorced, she was such a sweetheart.
You could hear the wind outside, howling and whistling like a caged animal in pain. The sound it made was a song of sorts, a beautiful mixture of words, music, and other notes that at some point reminded you of a dark and sinister evening that won't be forgotten at all. The wind blew through the windows, you heard the lights flicker off a couple times, you wondered if someone was injured, you stood listening for a further minute but saw nothing was gone. No person, no dog, nothing was gone.
You fell asleep to the sound of the wind and dreamt of a man, a handsome ghost. It was slightly distorted as if the ghost was running to a destination, you could sense that he was attempting to do so very quickly. You felt curious and curious, what this man was running for.
You dreamed of him waking you, who he was, what he wanted to say and so on. But he wouldn't speak, he just stood over you, thinking the same thing you were, himself questioning what he was doing, what he was thinking, why was he leaving this world if he was so in love with it. His question woke you from your sleep, wondering if the song was the same one that you heard the night before. It was.
He set the story on the door of the studio you worked at, you walked out of the building and the man was gone. No wind, no song, just a door on the ground. You picked it up and opened it to look at the story he wrote. It was a love story, you found it beautiful and took it home. You read it all night, had to put it down a couple times just to reflect on your own life, the love your ex-husband, who you still loved and wanted back, left you with, the pain, and nothingness he left in your heart.
You yearned for something so pure and full, the emotion was also written off in the book as well, you were able to feel the love he had in his heart, it was a love you haven't felt ever in your life. You woke up at 3 in the afternoon, still in bed, you can't remember the last time you had slept so well, it was like a whole day's worth of sleep, after you awoke, you read the rest of the story, you didn't want to rush, you wanted to savor it.
You could feel the words, they protruded rhythmically, connecting the pieces one after another into a seamless, imaginative, imaginative, creative story telling. It didn't make any sense at first, it seemed like his ghost was telling the story in his way, from his point of view, but the story was about you.
You walked out of the building like before, the wind began to blow with more energy, the lights flicker off again, the feeling of anxiety in this building was strong. You could here something was gone, no wind, no song, no ghost, just a door on the ground.
You picked it up, opened it and the man was there again. You could see that the wind had passed through, you felt a great disturbance in this building but nothing else. You thought that he was only trying to tell you to listen to him. He saw right through your intentions, the way you spoke, the way you are now.
He said, "You seemed lonely but you wanted to pretend not to be, but not anymore. Go home, find your dark lonely corner and I will visit it tonight, we will pass through this world together, you will be able to feel love again, to love again," he left, walked home, went to your dark lonely corner and felt something touch your hand, it was a hand, petite, fragile, a little cold. You felt him sit with you for a little while.
By the time you woke up the morning had come around. you were able to taste a little bit of his song, it still lingers in your mind, you feel stronger than before.
He appeared at the recording studio again, this time, you were working, you told him about yourself but he knew how to get you to open up. He knew what she did, he listened to her. You took the story he left you again and this time read it in the day light.
Now it all made sense, the reason he and you were brought together was to love one another. You were meant to love him. The strange thing was you have never met him before, you were meant to love him, that didn't mean you knew him, but they were meant to meet. You were meant to cherish him, it was a love you weren't expecting to find. You knew it was true love because of the way you felt, like you've done all your life, but you haven't. You haven't felt like this in over ten years, the memory was there but you didn't feel it. You were three hours early, you couldn't wait anymore to leave, you felt like sitting inside that day.
A strong cold breeze came through every window in the building, the lights went off and then back on. His song played through your head a few times, you heard the wind outside, you heard the sound of cars passing on by. You looked at the door to the studio, hoping that the man would appear again.
You looked at the clock, 3:33, the wind outside began to blow with more power, you heard sounds of dogs barking in the distance, you heard the twisting and turning of a car engine. You thought you saw something, a shadow moving at an inhuman speed. You wondered who it was, when you caught the shadow, it was a woman, an attractive woman, he must have been looking for someone, she saw you staring at her outside of the glass window, she waved at you. In a pleading voice, a female voice, she looked at you and slowly, slowly, whispered the words, "I love you". You watched as she turned away and began to walk out of the building. Her shadow disappeared within the night, there was nothing more, the door was still on the ground.