A Fateful Journey
Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
a tale of a fateful trip.
That started from a busy port,
aboard a fine cruise ship...
Alexander Hamilton was a nervous man. Not because he was President of the United States. Far from it. He only shared the name of one of the United States' former Presidents for, as his parents put it, euphonic reasons. No, he was nervous for a different reason. He was nervous because he was here to meet a girl. Not just any girl either. This particular girl was one that he hadn't seen in 14 years.
Her name was Anna and she had always made him nervous, which is probably why it had taken 14 years and a terrible catastrophe for him to even get up the nerve to see her again.
Some butterflies where having a party in his stomach as he attempted not to perspire. "This is ridiculus," he thought to himself. "I'm a grown man. The thought of meeting her shouldn't make me nervous." He looked at his fingernails and resisted the urge to bite them. "Well, not this nervous." They hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms. He still loved his wife and the thought of meeting Anna had made him feel guilty. He looked at his watch. He still had ten minutes before their appointed meeting time. He got up and paced around his room. He stopped for a moment to glance out over the open sea that lay just outside is cabin window. The cruise had been her idea. She had hoped the carefree atmosphere would help make the meeting less tense. "And," she had added, "you won't have anywhere to run." Perhaps this is what was making him the most nervous. Even if he did stand her up, she could just simply check the passenger manifest and come to his room.
His stomach lurched again. The sweat beneath his arms was starting to become palpable. The cruise was holding a ball and he and Anna thought that that would be a wonderful place to meet. He rented a tuxedo from a shop on the promenade and was now wishing he hadn't started getting ready so early. He took off the jacket and went into the bathroom. After checking himself in the mirror, he splashed some cold water on his face. He dried off and looked into the mirror again, this time with more resolve as if willing himself to be strong. You can do this, he thought. He sprayed on some deodorant, put his jacket back on, and left to meet his fate.
As Alexander made his way to the ballroom, several thoughts went through his head: What should he say? What if she's angry with him? These and other questions made the trek to the ballroom seem to pass in no time. He suddenly became aware that he was standing in front of the ballroom doors. "It's not too late," he told himself. "You can still turn back." He sighed heavily. There was no turning back. Even if he did, the cruise ship was three days from its destination. Three days was a long time to hide in his cabin avoiding the unavoidable. And if he missed this opportunity, he may never see Anna again. He thought of his wife momentarily and found renewed guilt. He cleared his head of these thoughts, took a deep breath, and stepped into the ballroom.
The ballroom was very well done. The lighting over the dance floor was subdued and candles were placed on the tables around the dance floor. There were already many couple dancing to a piece the orchestra played from the stage on one side of the dance floor. There were many others seated at tables enjoying an intimate moment by candlelight. Alexander wondered for a moment whether or not he would even be able to find Anna. Then he spied her briefly on the other side of dance floor as a part was made in the maelstrom of dancers. He began wending his way around the dancers and through the tables where lovers where enjoying each others company. While he was still a good distance away, he looked her over and thought about was he was going to say to her. Anna was an attractive young woman wearing a dark colored dress. The dress sparkled just a bit as if it had been laced with glitter. Her hair was up and her makeup was done in such a way as to enhance her already fine features instead of overpowering them. Alexander wondered briefly whether or not she was wearing perfume. Despite her beauty, she seemed somewhat sad. He noticed that she clutched her small black purse close to her as if seeking comfort from it. Perhaps she doubted that he would show. Or perhaps she was just as uneasy about their tryst as he was. He straightened his tie and began making his way toward her, still unsure as to what he would say.
The distance between them seemed to be shorter than he first imagined and soon he was right next to her. She was looking the other direction and seemed not to have noticed his arrival. As he took a breath, he noticed the faint scent of perfume. He recognized it immediately. His wife use to wear the same perfume. Now, he reasoned, was the moment of truth. He felt as though he were having an out of body experience or that perhaps he were merely reading the account of someone else and had become completely enveloped in the plot. His nervousness had abated and when he opened his mouth to speak, he found that all he could say was, "Anna."
Anna turned and looked up at him. For a brief moment, their eyes caught and in that moment, Alexander seemed to see the past fourteen years of Anna's life. Happiness, joy, sorrow, anger, disappointment, reconciliation, and contentment. Everything that had happened to her seemed to have been captured in that one brief moment. He wondered whether or not she saw the same and lowered his head without realizing it. He felt a sudden sadness fall upon him. He felt the onset of tears and tried to fight them off. When he raised his head again to speak to her, all he found he could say was "Anna. I'm sorry."
She, too, seemed to be fighting the flow of tears that were welling up within her beautiful brown eyes. She reached a trembling hand to him and laid it gently upon his arm.
"It's all right, Dad," was all she could say before the two of them embraced each other as only an estranged father and daughter could.
Brought to you in part by my Adren Child of Gaia Galliard avatar.
a tale of a fateful trip.
That started from a busy port,
aboard a fine cruise ship...
Alexander Hamilton was a nervous man. Not because he was President of the United States. Far from it. He only shared the name of one of the United States' former Presidents for, as his parents put it, euphonic reasons. No, he was nervous for a different reason. He was nervous because he was here to meet a girl. Not just any girl either. This particular girl was one that he hadn't seen in 14 years.
Her name was Anna and she had always made him nervous, which is probably why it had taken 14 years and a terrible catastrophe for him to even get up the nerve to see her again.
Some butterflies where having a party in his stomach as he attempted not to perspire. "This is ridiculus," he thought to himself. "I'm a grown man. The thought of meeting her shouldn't make me nervous." He looked at his fingernails and resisted the urge to bite them. "Well, not this nervous." They hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms. He still loved his wife and the thought of meeting Anna had made him feel guilty. He looked at his watch. He still had ten minutes before their appointed meeting time. He got up and paced around his room. He stopped for a moment to glance out over the open sea that lay just outside is cabin window. The cruise had been her idea. She had hoped the carefree atmosphere would help make the meeting less tense. "And," she had added, "you won't have anywhere to run." Perhaps this is what was making him the most nervous. Even if he did stand her up, she could just simply check the passenger manifest and come to his room.
His stomach lurched again. The sweat beneath his arms was starting to become palpable. The cruise was holding a ball and he and Anna thought that that would be a wonderful place to meet. He rented a tuxedo from a shop on the promenade and was now wishing he hadn't started getting ready so early. He took off the jacket and went into the bathroom. After checking himself in the mirror, he splashed some cold water on his face. He dried off and looked into the mirror again, this time with more resolve as if willing himself to be strong. You can do this, he thought. He sprayed on some deodorant, put his jacket back on, and left to meet his fate.
As Alexander made his way to the ballroom, several thoughts went through his head: What should he say? What if she's angry with him? These and other questions made the trek to the ballroom seem to pass in no time. He suddenly became aware that he was standing in front of the ballroom doors. "It's not too late," he told himself. "You can still turn back." He sighed heavily. There was no turning back. Even if he did, the cruise ship was three days from its destination. Three days was a long time to hide in his cabin avoiding the unavoidable. And if he missed this opportunity, he may never see Anna again. He thought of his wife momentarily and found renewed guilt. He cleared his head of these thoughts, took a deep breath, and stepped into the ballroom.
The ballroom was very well done. The lighting over the dance floor was subdued and candles were placed on the tables around the dance floor. There were already many couple dancing to a piece the orchestra played from the stage on one side of the dance floor. There were many others seated at tables enjoying an intimate moment by candlelight. Alexander wondered for a moment whether or not he would even be able to find Anna. Then he spied her briefly on the other side of dance floor as a part was made in the maelstrom of dancers. He began wending his way around the dancers and through the tables where lovers where enjoying each others company. While he was still a good distance away, he looked her over and thought about was he was going to say to her. Anna was an attractive young woman wearing a dark colored dress. The dress sparkled just a bit as if it had been laced with glitter. Her hair was up and her makeup was done in such a way as to enhance her already fine features instead of overpowering them. Alexander wondered briefly whether or not she was wearing perfume. Despite her beauty, she seemed somewhat sad. He noticed that she clutched her small black purse close to her as if seeking comfort from it. Perhaps she doubted that he would show. Or perhaps she was just as uneasy about their tryst as he was. He straightened his tie and began making his way toward her, still unsure as to what he would say.
The distance between them seemed to be shorter than he first imagined and soon he was right next to her. She was looking the other direction and seemed not to have noticed his arrival. As he took a breath, he noticed the faint scent of perfume. He recognized it immediately. His wife use to wear the same perfume. Now, he reasoned, was the moment of truth. He felt as though he were having an out of body experience or that perhaps he were merely reading the account of someone else and had become completely enveloped in the plot. His nervousness had abated and when he opened his mouth to speak, he found that all he could say was, "Anna."
Anna turned and looked up at him. For a brief moment, their eyes caught and in that moment, Alexander seemed to see the past fourteen years of Anna's life. Happiness, joy, sorrow, anger, disappointment, reconciliation, and contentment. Everything that had happened to her seemed to have been captured in that one brief moment. He wondered whether or not she saw the same and lowered his head without realizing it. He felt a sudden sadness fall upon him. He felt the onset of tears and tried to fight them off. When he raised his head again to speak to her, all he found he could say was "Anna. I'm sorry."
She, too, seemed to be fighting the flow of tears that were welling up within her beautiful brown eyes. She reached a trembling hand to him and laid it gently upon his arm.
"It's all right, Dad," was all she could say before the two of them embraced each other as only an estranged father and daughter could.
Brought to you in part by my Adren Child of Gaia Galliard avatar.