I recently watched The painted veil and loved the movie so much I wanted to write something. Just a one shot about Walter. Enjoy!
He was back at the door again. It was this day again: the sun in his eyes, in front of the door, and the sound of his wife making love with another man.
It was the beginning of the end. And it all started again every night. He was thincking of her, of the magic of her smile, the way she could make him happy when he first met her, back in London.
Now they were lost in the wilderness of this landscape. The pain of the bodies lying and waiting for the death to come. The pain of the heart, crying for a time that will never comme again.
He could think it was just a nightmare. He could make a fool of him by watching her when she was not aware of his presence. He knew he was cruel with her. Truth be told: he didn't want. He didn't like the man he was. He could dream of the perfect life, the perfect wife... but he was just lying to himself.
The corpses all aroud him were no pain compared to the hatred hidden inside his heart.
He closed his eyes, tried to catch some fresh air. But he was in front of this door again. And he wanted to come inside the room, to reach his wife. Just to touch her and love her the way he was longing to.