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Psyche

Psyche

3 mins 142 3 mins 142

Two years back, during autumn, I got married to Martha Parkinson, daughter of famous editor Richard Parkinson. We both were in a relationship for three years until one day I asked her to marry me. After two days of our wedding, Martha said that she had picked out Paris to be the city of our honeymoon. I was fine with it. We were to leave for Paris only after one week, so we started packing things and making arrangements. All was set.


I was visiting Paris for the first time. It was a heavenly city with pleasant weather. Martha always wanted to see the most famous landmark of Paris, Eiffel tower, in reality. Macarons were one of the best cookies I have ever eaten in my entire life. The city was filled with aesthetic landscapes and tremendous monuments. Martha and I went shopping, visited museums, parks, went on a cruise and even beheld Disneyland.


One morning, when we were inside the Palace of Versailles, Martha all of a sudden disappeared. I shouted her name but she never reacted. After searching her for around twenty minutes, I got panicked and ran to security to tell them about her. They asked for her picture. So I took out some Polaroid photos from my bag that we had taken during that week. Surprisingly, in all the photos that we had taken together, it was only me who was in there. I was posing alone in all those pictures. Hardly could I believe my eyes.


The security thought I was insane so they patted on my shoulder and left. Honestly, at that time, even I thought that I was a lunatic freak who was expecting a woman to be hanging around me in those pictures. Hopelessly, I went back to the hotel to find some more proofs. Again, I was traumatized to see all of her suitcases vanished and found only my cases. I didn’t know what was happening but I surely knew that I wasn’t dreaming.


Then the next few days were busy ones, as I was completely engulfed in finding my so to be wife. When I asked the hotel staff they said that they had never seen anyone around me. I mean all these things were driving me crazy. The question was whether I was even married to her or not? After a few weeks I decided to go back to my home and forget everything that happened. I was sure no one was going to believe what happened to me in Paris.


After reaching my home, I took the key out of my bag and unlocked the door. I went inside with both of my briefcases in my hands and went to the kitchen to fetch some water. As soon as I entered the kitchen, I saw her sitting on the chair and reading a book. Yes, it was Martha and when she saw me she ran towards me and hugged so tightly I felt my ribs pressed among one another. She asked me where I have been all this time. But that was the question I was supposed to ask her.


Martha told me that she had never gone to Paris.


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