For the Love of Angelina
Billy led a solitary life. As his name suggested, he was a Billy, a Billy no-mates. Devoid of meaningful talent, skills or purpose, Billy was never destined to be out there. He was not equipped to run with the big dogs in the rat race. Daily he wandered aimlessly around his home, taking pause only to spy on her, always looking. Look and watch, that's all he did. His life's goal, so long as he could remember, was to watch and stake her out. He'd seen her laugh, he'd seen her cry. Every time he spied her seemed like the dawn of a new day. The moment his eyes beheld her, it was love at first sight - every time like the first time, over and over again. Act - Never! Billy simply watched Angelina, that's all he'd the courage to do. From the safety and comfort of his sparsely furnished humble abode, night and day he observed her every move. Through his window he watched. The pane of glass that separated them, a boundary beyond which his love could not pass. Obsessed, he longed for her, her touch. He was smitten. She was different, and it was not simply the colour of her skin.
From his elevated vantage point, he'd watch her undress. Staring, unblinking, enjoying the realisation and rediscovery of every curve and line of her body. Her smile enchanted him. All day, every day of his life he dreamed of what he might say to her. He'd open his mouth but no words would come, and so he'd repeat the cycle. The words never came; they were beyond his grasp.
Angelina came home with another that night, she laughed as Billy had never seen her laugh before, and the two of them danced. Billy looked on in awe. He had not the feet of a dancer. They danced a while. They kissed and hugged before she took her lover to her bed.
In the quiet of the night Billy looked down on Angelina through his window. Nobody would ever see his tears. The sight of his love and her lover, embraced in peaceful sleep caused him deep suffering and pain. He felt gutted. There was no rage to speak of, all was lost. He knew of but one cure for his broken heart - Billy jumped, and flew a while, before plummeting a distance to his demise. His death was not immediate, he lay a while, watching, as he always did, he thought his last thoughts as he struggled for his last breaths.
Hurling himself to his doom was the right and only thing to do. He and his love could never be. The colour of his skin was never an issue. Angelina was not cut from that cloth. There were other factors. The two were so different, their worlds an ocean apart. Angelina the adventuress desired to be out and about. She loved exercise and the fresh air, and to feel the wind on her face. Billy preferred the comfort and security of home. He and his life's love were indeed different creatures. To be around her and live in her world, would surely take his breath away.
Angelina discovered his lifeless, cold and broken body that morning. She did not shed a single tear. At his funeral during the short ceremony returning him to his ancestral home, her words were very few. "I think I'm going to need another goldfish." Was all she had to say before lowering the great cover of his tomb. Angelina pulled the lever - and flushed.