He has a daughter who locked her love for him away a long time ago. Now, she wears a dozen different masks to hide her feelings, although she showed her heart just once, just briefly, that time when she was college-drunk.
They walk down a street, inches apart, in silence, and the gods are willing him -- WILLING him -- to reach over, put his arm around her, tell her a private joke, or take her hand when they cross the street, even though she's too old for that, but wouldn't it be a… Continue
Added by Gita on September 6, 2011 at 11:00am —
She was a 25 year old mother of six children, waiting for the next to happen.
She married the son of her father's good friend, and they lived on a farm they didn't own.
The soil was rich, the cows gave milk faithfully, and the chickens provided eggs for breakfast.
Every day was the same; there was nothing more to life.
So, in the early hours of that morning,… Continue
Added by Bonnie on August 2, 2010 at 8:17am —
They had never before spent so many hours together, never shared a bed for anything other than sex – and even then only the once, the last time - so lying together in the dark brought a rare restfulness and when he finally fell silent she positioned herself so as to breathe in the air that he breathed out, before she too slept.
Last to sleep, first to wake, and hesitating: never again would she treat him with the arrogant carelessness of youth: yesterday, after… Continue
Added by Sandra Davies on July 8, 2010 at 1:30am —
In the car she asked about the house and Sean told her it belonged to his mother’s family, she’d married beneath her, “for love” and not unhappily except for a short-lived estrangement from her parents, and financial hardship since her husband had been a proud man, hardworking but unskilled.
The coincidence of their meeting, the speed and impact at which they’d come together, had left them breathless, almost embarrassed and following, as it did, five years of estrangement, when each… Continue
Added by Sandra Davies on July 7, 2010 at 5:30pm —
Less than fifteen minutes after they’d gone upstairs, seeing Bridie head for the bathroom from the floor below, Christy took the opportunity to find out what Sean’s plans were.
“Christ Almighty, you’ve fucked her already!” the room reeked and he did not need the evidence of the damp-stained sheet and Sean’s nakedness, and since Sean was, for once, in his debt he could risk the accusation as well as the language which his brother invariably chided them for.
Sean’s frown… Continue
Added by Sandra Davies on July 7, 2010 at 3:30am —
It wasn’t the distress Sean may have thought it to be: Bridie had been trying to cope with a shockingly immediate surge of lust. Shocking because, if asked, she would have claimed that three years at university would most certainly put a youthful fling into context, but she was clearly mistaken – that part of her life, her brief time with him, had a context all of its own and she had been deluding herself if she thought she had relegated him to her past.
In an… Continue
Added by Sandra Davies on July 5, 2010 at 5:00pm —
“I’ve offered a lift” Christy said as they moved off.
“You took long enough,” Sean’s eyes were on the wing mirror, his hand out the window requesting and acknowledging a gap in the traffic, then hearing a note of something unusual he glanced across at Christy, failed to interpret his expression and looked round ... Oh Christ Bridie
, Bridie staring at him, her face pale, her eyes wide ... a bedroom echo ...… Continue
Added by Sandra Davies on July 5, 2010 at 11:30am —
Effie made sure to be thinking of Bert every time the shutter clicked in the hope that there would be a spare copy to send to him; her mother wanted to have a record of her at twenty, but also to have her pictured as a daughter, as part of the Traves family, hence the presence of her brothers (not that Bert would mind, but she’d prefer it to be just her he looked at.)
Well, actually, she’d prefer that he was… Continue
Added by Sandra Davies on March 2, 2010 at 5:00am —
She left on a Tuesday, this much I'm sure of. My first week alone dragged on interminably, aided, no doubt, by a long playlist of acoustic covers of terribly sad songs. The first month rode the pendular ebb and flow of hope and pessimism, each crest celebrated with positive messages to concerned friends, each denouement punctuated by a healthy indulgence in distilled spirits. Twelve weeks gone by and I no longer check my email with the rabid fervor of the lonely and desperate, hoping blindly to… Continue
Added by michael brooks on February 10, 2010 at 3:34pm —
The year was 1960 and I was so little that I had to jog close behind Aunt Nancy as she commenced up the snowy walkway with purpose, as though she sought to get the inconvenience of unraveling herself from me over with.
Oh, so that must be the place, I figured, when an enormous stone house came into view. It had stained-glass windows, but unlike the church next to it, not all the windows were stained glass. The house property was bordered by tall, thick, black wrought-iron gates; each… Continue
Added by Joseph Lupoli on December 14, 2009 at 7:30am —
The last time I was dying did not hurt this much; less pain resided inside of me back then.
Just before you die, all the sediments of pain raise and morph into a whirlwind which only intent is to leave you. That separation hurts even more than harboring the anguish, but this time I endure. After the agony of the detachment is over, the pain is gone. If I could feel, I would rejoice. But, I can not; I am gone, too.
Added by Jelena on September 27, 2009 at 10:03am —