The Old King Is Dead

Guess you kissed the girls and made them cry

Those hard faced queens of misadventure

- People Help The People

"And the world still spins, I realized

The moon still rises on the heels of the sun's departure

And the day is birthed in the same brilliant effort.

Time doesn't cease to move, it's rather unconcerned with my worries matter of fact.

Children laugh and cry in the same monotonous, unmoving schedule.

And the birds fly unaware. Small victories and tarnishing pains still exist

Truth: the world has not unraveled.

It was John Steinback who once wrote that 'it seems strange to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought and action, we should remember our dying and try to live so that out death brings no pleasure to the world.'

I think we should all live that our absence is felt in the heart and souls of the people we leave behind. I think that we all should leave such an impact that we cannot be forgotten, that we live on forever in the memories of the people who love us the most.

I'll remember my father. Not because of what he's done, because like all of us, he has make some mistakes along the way.

But I'll remember him for who he was at his core. He exxuberated strength, he oozed intelligence and that's what the world got to see. But what my family and I saw, was a man who'd come home 10 pm in the night after a long day and listen to us as we unburdened ourselves. Even when we didn't know it, or appreciate it, he paid attention to the very littliest of details. It was what I loved most about him- his heart.

I should feel sad, I should be teary-eyed but I can't help feeling thankful for the time I had with him. I am so blessed to have been fathered by such a man. I am so proud to be his daughter.

To dad, you taught me the toughest of lessons, you taught me to fight, you taught me to love, you taught me to laugh.

Your death has brought no pleasure to the world. Your mark would forever be etched in our beings. I feel a part of my soul has departed but I'll press on.

I love you. I hope you've found your peace.

...

"We all have our pains, Aria." Spencer said cutting the young women from her thoughts. " I felt betrayed when I found out about your pregnacy. I felt entitled to knowing the deepest secrets you own. I felt hurt because I thought you knew that I would have done anything to share half of your load...but we all have our pains Aria and you've had a large part of it. I don't want to add anymore of it."

"I'm sorry, Spencer." Aria replies. She is standing in the middle of the Hasting's living room surrounded by a myraid of well- wishers. The recently installed stain glass window reflected a dancing rainbow on her face.

She extends her hand and Spencer takes it- years of knowing and loving each other refired in that small moment.

"I wish you could have seen her. You would have loved her."

...

It is late evening, after her father's burial and she is in the coffee shop where Toby used to live, just upstairs before he left Rosewood. Truthfully, she has no idea why is here. Possibly to collect the remnants of simpler times, possibly to evade the feeling of being left behind in a shell-shocked state.

It's fast approaching spring and the air is beginning to take on the feel of it. Antithetic, it was, if one was asking. It seemed ironic, that in the midst of death that life could blossom, but life had proven itself a series of contradictories. Thinking on this point, her mind surrounded Toby's sudden re-entrance into her life. Just when she had given up the notion of true love, had she been reunited with him, just when

"Hastings" an unfamiliar voice stated matter of factly, the person seating themselves next to her. Assessing the stranger, she looked up at him, confused. Her initial thoughts were that he had confused her for someone else but she vanish the idea, remembering that he had said her name.

When her perplexity did not alleviate, he extended his hand, a smile parenthesis by deep laugh line. "Robert Cavalero" he introduced himself immediately lifting the fog from Spencer's groggy mind.

Stumbling from surprise, Spencer tried to muster enough composure, afraid that her "Spencer Hasting." She replied, accepting his hand.

"Yes." he paused "I know."

For a moment she began to think that that was the end of the conversation because sat quietly, consumed in his Irish coffee but then quiet suddenly and alarmingly, he turned again to speak, opening his mouth, but then closing it reconsidering his words.

His demeanor soften as he took another sip of his hot liquid "I'm sorry to hear about Peter." He said, his accent vaguely eastern European.

Surprised at this new information but not wanting to appear- overly curious, Spencer asked him as calmly as possible how she knew him. To this he replied with a vague 'old friends' followed by another bout of severe silence.

"That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. "he said when he had finally spoken again. "I want you to come and work for me.

Elation followed anxiety and melted in a pool of despair. Robert, the CEO of one of the top interior design company was here, in a small coffee shop in the middle of a Philadelphia town asking her- a barely out of college designer with minimal experience.

Noting her hesitation, the man spoke up. "I know this is quite informal and I'm not in the habit of approaching virtual strangers and offering them a job at my company. "he paused at this moment, smiling, "but I make exceptions for talented people. I saw your work on the new boutique downtown. It reminded me of my work at your age."

Spencer smiled thoughtfully. It had been his work that she had poured over day and night, fascinated by how he brought a simple room to life. It was his work that had fermented her decision to become an interior designer as opposed to becoming a lawyer or even a doctor.

"With your potential" he continued and "my knowledge, I think this would be an most advantageous partnership, "and slipping a card to her," think about it and give me a call."

Watching him disappear out of the cafe into the arms of a shadowy night, Spencer's disbelief mounted. Had one of her dreams been realized?

Something surge within her, a creative need in her reawakened. When Toby had left, her work had been her only solace and it had gradually become one of her greatest comforts- the ability to create.

Scanning the card of her dreams, her excitement multiplied. Thoughts extended and expanded, ideas were dusted off. Her father would have been proud of her. Toby would be proud of her. Was the law of positive and negative outcomes finally showing her its overdue favor?

"Robert Calevero" she read for the umpteenth time, taking up her jacket to go. "CEO- Imagine Interiors." She recited, elated "New York City." She finished.

"New York City" she repeated, the harsh reality hitting her.

Slumping back on her stool, all her resolve melted into a puddle of despair. "New York."

Yes I'm still alive. I know the ole' vanishing act is probably getting a little tiresome but I've been swamp with school work.

So please forgive me darlings...

Anyways, if I still have any readers left, it's always great to hear from you.

But until next time.

Ta-ta.