Missing (A Short Short Story)
Missing
‘She’s gone,’ Charles said. Jeff sat next to him at the bar.
‘Who’s gone?’
‘My girl,’ he said without taking his eyes off the whiskey glass in his hand. ‘She’s been gone for a long time now. In my mind ignorance is anything but bliss. You see, in a way not knowing is worse than if they were to find her dead.’
‘And what would you do if they were to find her body?,’ Jeff asked, putting his cigarette out.
‘Well, what’s there to do? I know I’d be broken. There’s no use in denying it. But there would be a reason to be broken.’
‘You won’t find what you need here. Believe me. I know.’
‘I’d rather drown in the truth than to live a lie,’ Charles said, taking a sip from his glass and looking up for the first time. Jeff turned to him with a serious look on his face.
‘Maybe you would,’ he said. ‘But if you did find her dead you would not only stop looking for her, but also for yourself. You still have that sparkle of hope in your eyes. I can see it. Hold on to it, my friend. Embrace it and you’ll find her.’
‘But what if I don’t?,’ Charles asked.
‘Even if you don’t, you’ll find yourself.’