The Unheard Voice:

 

The Unheard Voice:

:

 A Story of Light and Darkness:

 :

In the quiet of every night, I hear his loud voice in whispers. Often, he would express his artificial anger with a booming voice.

"Your name means 'light,' but why do you keep all the lights in the house on until late at night? His voice would reverberate with manufactured frustration as he inquired.

And I, in my genuine irritation, would shout back, "I don't like too much bright light!"

He said" He is Thankful for wherein we sit, you have not grown to become of the lighting in this room.

Please, don't extinguish this one for God's sake."

Then he would light a bulb in the hallway.

It was a routine day.

I gave no response to his statement and didn't turn off the hallway light either. I returned home from the office just ten minutes ago when a call came in. It was an emergency client. Wherever you are, get to the office soon.

He checked the time. It was only six in the evening.

"I might be late. Have your dinner," he said, picking up his briefcase and heading out.

A short while later, I heard the grinding sound of our car. I rushed to the gate to see it wasn't my imagination. He had gotten out of the car and was fixing a key in the gate.

"Cancelled the meeting?" I asked.

" Brother, I'm stuck in your chores," he replied.

He came to the gate and, after lighting a bulb, said, "Let it keep burning. I'll be back by twelve."

Without waiting for a response, he swiftly walked back the way he came. Perhaps he felt no need to hear a reply, confident the bulb would keep glowing.

Not even an hour had passed when the phone at home rang. The caller was either rude or accustomed to such matters. Without any condolences, he stated, "Your husband has had an accident. Maybe he was in an intoxicated state. The car was speeding. He's taken two others to the hospital. He's alive but severely injured."

He mentioned the hospital and hung up.

My entire body shivered. Wearing a large shawl over my sleeping suit, I rushed to the hospital.

Perhaps he was in a hurry to leave or maybe I arrived late. He had departed from this world.

Many years have passed. I started working and pushed thoughts of a second marriage out of my mind. I hold myself responsible for his death, and the bulb in the hallway, that relentless glow persists. Whether day or night, it keeps burning. The fuse blew twice, but I replaced it immediately, buying two dozen more bulbs and keeping them in the house.

Every night, before going to sleep, I spend some time under the light of the hallway bulb, and in its high-pitched voice, now a whisper, I hear it say, "Don't extinguish it for God's sake."