photograph by MorganLeFaye
I’ve decided to add a Fiction category to my blog and today, I’m proudly publishing my first story. It’s broken into two parts. Today’s post includes Part One. Part Two will be published next Thursday, Nov. 19th. I hope you enjoy The Journey Begins :~)
She was sitting at the old table. It was solid wood, scarred by old spills and gouges on its surface. It was at this table that she and Ben had shared their first meal as a married couple; peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with candlelight and cheap wine.
After dinner, like a couple of teenagers, they carved their initials into the table, outlining them with an odd-shaped heart. Now, her hand reached out to touch the carving, but drew back; it was just too painful.
She picked up her teacup and looked around the room. Half-filled boxes stared expectantly at her, waiting to be filled and sealed. She turned away, not feeling ready to pack up her life with Ben yet.
Instead, she let the comforting sounds of the ocean waves move her towards a favorite chair by the window, where she sat and closed her eyes. “I’ll rest for just a minute,” she thought to herself, pulling an old afghan blanket onto her lap.
But the memories of their move into this house would not let her rest. What a wonderful day that had been; filled with effervescent joy. She could still hear Ben’s laughter and quiet whispers as they made love in their new home, serenaded by the ocean’s waves.
Ten years later, she was alone, packing that life into boxes. A tear rolled from her eye and she swiped at it angrily. She pulled herself from the chair repeating “No more tears.” like a mantra.
She faced the boxes again and shouted angrily at the house. “Stop! Let me go. Don’t you think I’ve had enough?” The house was silent. What could it say? Those memories did not haunt the house; they were her ghosts.
The room had somewhat brightened as the night awakened into a gray foggy day. She decided that she couldn’t be in the house a minute longer. The boxes would just have to wait. She reached into one and pulled out one of Ben’s old brown cardigans.
She quickly tugged the sweater over her head, wanting to escape the house as soon as possible. Immediately, the scent of Ben’s aftershave caught her unawares. She breathed deeply, wishing she could capture it forever, but knowing she couldn’t.
She jerked open the old wooden door that led to the beach and ran down the steps into the thick fog. Before she knew it, the fog had surrounded her and for a second, she was scared.
To be continued…
* * * * * *
Things to think about:
What do you think she will discover on the beach?
What do you think happened to Ben?
Have you felt a loss like she feels? If so, how did you handle it?