It was then that it occurred to her to give a party. There were always several parties at Christmas time. She liked sitting in a noisy dinning room… It annoyed her very much whenever she heard of a party given in the neighbourhood to which she was not asked. Thirty five years had passed since the last time she had been invited to one, for thirty five winters she had been alone, thirty five Christmas eves since his husband died… She felt lonely, unloved, blue; and it was those feelings what had made her the despicable wretched old woman all neighbours were afraid of.
Lots of stories that spoke of her as a bitch had pushed the children away, so they would not knock at her door anymore. But not only children were terrified, those who had been living in the neighbourhood for years were also scared: they thought that that repulsive person could harm their kids and might even torture them. This was her reputation but it was not reality.
Behind the doors of the enormous mansion lived a solitary old lady with nothing but pain in her heart. Her husband had been the only person who had ever loved her and her sons had not seen her since their father’s funeral.
She had started to plan the party a month before. It would be because of her beloved’s death anniversary. ‘I have to get my family back before I die’. This was her only thought, her only wish. She imagined day after day the wonderful evening which was to come, the whole family chatting and dancing as it used to be. No more silence would be heard inside that house… She delivered the invitations personally. Every neighbour and every member of the family were invited. She invited all the people his husband had ever met, indeed.
The day of the party came. Exactly thirty five years ago she had discovered her husband’s corpse sitting in the same armchair she was now. She waited… She patiently waited …
…
Three days after a drop went down through her cheek. Still in the armchair, she sobbed silently in pain for a long time, until she suddenly stopped.
…
She had choked to death with the tears she had swollen, and nobody would ever discover it because the only person who had ever cared for her had died, in that same armchair thirty five years ago.
Diego
