The roads certainly couldn’t be getting better, she thought peering through the glint of the fireplace on the window-pane. But they must be close, they’re certainly close.
The rain poured down through the needles and boughs of the pine trees heavier and heavier, blocking out the moon. As the rain intensified, it brought along with it darkness.…[Read more]
I think we should use the nice ones, she’s my mother for Christ’s sake!
I understand where you’re coming from, but she isn’t a queen or anything she’s…
She’s just your mother.
Aha! JUST my mother. I suppose you’d break out the plastic for your mother as well, eh?
Sweetheart, my mother is dead.
It was never really a fear of mine, but I suppose it always kind of loomed as a possibility. I know some people always had a safety net, I’m not sure what they meant by that, if they were walking on a damn tight-rope but anyway, I’ve never really felt that way. If I ever did, I can’t remember. But it’s not there now.
“Would a spoon be okay, though?”
He looked over the top of his newspaper with only a half-attentive glance. “Would a.. wait, what?”
“You said not to stick a knife or a fork in it…” the child replied, his gaze shifting from father to outlet, father to outlet. “But is a spoon okay?”
The father sighed, lifting the newspaper. “You know what,…[Read more]
Dysentery. That’s what they called it. Not rightly sure I had any idea what it meant. But hell, I knew what it did. Wife in the ground in Dakota. Son in the ground in Nebraska. Two hundred miles to Oregon and the only thing I have to my name is a damn empty wagon and, you guessed it, dysentery.
Little was known of him before he donned the helmet. To be honest, little was known of him after either. Most just knew his name, few what he looked like, and far fewer still why he did it. But none of that really mattered. All he cared about were those few seconds, high in the air, with all eyes watching.
“What’s this supposed to be?” He said, glaring at her from across the table.
“It’s a cookie… It’s your dessert.” She mumbles awkwardly, smiling back at him.
He slowly turns the plate over and lets the treat fall to the floor, stares at it momentarily then looks up at her. “We need to talk…”
All there was in the office was a desk with a simple desk chair, a lamp, and in the corner of the room a black leather couch. I sat on the couch. It seemed more comfortable. I wanted this thing to be casual. It was calming to lay back on the couch, show him my confidence.
They stood before him. He knew that it wasn’t really a decision he had to make so much as an acceptance of the life he would lead from here on in. One would be perfect. Everything he could ever accomplish and be proud of. The other was her. He took her hand… and chose.