"Ultimately, a writer owns one of the two things or both: style, imagination and wit. But wit only belongs to the genius."I reached the foot of the enormous tree house and started climbing up the rickety staircase. The wood was well worn out,you could see the steps had been walked upon many a time. They would wobble as I set foot upon them. And as I moved upwards, every step I took filled me ever more with the fear of the whole place collapsing beneath me. Indeed, it all seemed extremely frail, too weak to support the weight of man alone, and I imagined the tall construction swaying in the wind, from side to side.
Every now and then, small openings would appear on the wall from round the corner of the spiral staircase. And from these windows, in the distance, I could hear her shouting. She was outside, running towards the wooden building, trying to reach me with her words. I wouldn't heed a word she said, instead urging myself to reach the top of the narrow staircase. For all the while I climbed up, the more frightened I became and the more insecure I felt.
But now she was catching up on me - my legs beginning to become weak upon the instability of the stairs - and her words came to me very much clearer. My pursuer was pleading me to forgive her, but how could I? She had left me at a time when I most needed her, and come back a different person, changed beyond recognition. Nothing was left of her wild nature, no longer could I gaze upon the love in her eyes when she stared into mine, all that remained was her bleak and empty expression.
I finally reached the top of the staircase, which opened up onto wooden landing, with the wide tree trunk standing in the middle of the circular room. I now wondered what had brought me all the way up this feeble construction, for now, more than ever, I was so full of fear and apprehension that I could barley stand. I held on tight to the thick bark of the tree trunk, my heart filling with anguish as I heard Emily rapidly climbing the staircase.
A minute later I saw the svelte young lady with her hazel nut coloured eyes reach the top of the stairs. She was out of breath, and stood there staring straight at me, a shy smile upon her lips, as if trying to say something to me, but leaving words aside. And then, in a flash, my mind was filled with every memory I had of her, overwhelming me with a feeling of immense joy, replacing the anguish in an instant. Everything had changed. I no longer felt the tree house swaying in the wind, and I could stand as if it had always been as stable and strongly built as a brick house. We smiled to one another, but at first didn't speak a word, it was needless to do so, from the look in her eyes, I knew she was feeling the same way as I was. We were more content with relishing this moment, with so many emotions running through ourselves that it felt like a lifetime. From then on, I knew everything was back to what it used to be, I had retrieved a lost love - one that I had thought lost for ever - and I felt greatly comforted. Or so I thought ...
