Hazia’s Reflections

I’ve seen a few writers used this technique. The latest news I heard from someone gave me the idea below. I think I can tell this story in a letter. Hope it works:)

Yours Sincerely - 1st Cut

Dear André,

Your wedding invitation came in the mail this morning. ‘To Nabila and partner’ was neatly printed on the rectangular off white envelope. A stamp with a photo of the King of Thailand was glued on the top left corner. I took out the stylish card of a little stalk of red rose on ivory petal paper. When I opened it, the last name I expected to see was yours, and hers. Last time I heard from you was probably two years ago.

Suddenly, my mind flung back to the first time we had lunch at Waterfall poolside cafe on level 3. Its resort-like ambiance was a contrast to the other parts of the business hotel. I was late, well not by Malaysian time actually. But then, you had always lectured me about your crucial lessons at the hotel management school in Lucerne. The first thing one should erase was negative cultural practice.

With that in mind, I rushed to open the glass door and stepped onto the brick garden tiles. The strong wind blew upon my face. I blinked and then I saw you, sitting all by yourself at a small round table tucked away at a corner. The large green palm leaves were dancing gracefully behind you. I could not believe that this dazzling man was waiting for me. I thought it was a good choice of table at first, very intimate. However, later on, I realised that the hotel Exco members always chose a hidden spot for their personal dining.

I smiled at Edwin who was seated nearby, he was the Health Club Manager, remember? He winked at me and gave me a thumb up sign. Then it hit me, the table was set up for two, several of the staff were getting curious about your date. A new available expatriate was in town; obviously, they thought I did not waste any time in making my move.

One question had been pondering on my mind until then. When you came onboard a few weeks before, everybody assumed that you were still single. There was no mention of a wife or girlfriend. In fact, when I casually asked, you said you lived with your little Jack Russell, his name was Donny. Only the day before, you passed me a copy of your CV for our newsletter write-up. Imagine my shock when your marital status stated ‘Married’. After ordering our three-course meal, I decided to get it out there and then. “Can I ask you something? Are you married?” I was devastated when you said ‘Yes,’ but managed to calmly pursue, “How come your wife is not staying with you?”

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