He was coming home for the first time since and I wasn’t sure what to do with the mixture of emotions swirling in me.
Trepidation. Hope. Regret. Grief. … And woven between them the pleading thread that it will magically make it as if nothing had happened. For I wanted — oh, so wanted — to undo what could not be undone …
Nothing subdued the anxiety, so I just stood by the window and waited. For days now anything I touched and every room I’d entered was seen through his soon-to-come eyes: the new cover on the sofa, the oval mirror at the entryway that had replaced the one I’d broken in a fist of pain, the small rocking-chair just where it had always been. This window.
And the steps. The wretched spot where Ella’s head had hit so hard when she fell that the stair’s edge chipped.
“You should’ve watched her,” was all he’d said at the morgue. Or since.
Twelve months ago today.
(Wordcount: 162)
For the FFfAW writing challenge
Very dark and powerful.
Thank you… And, yes, a bit dark…
A grieving father is coming home. So touching! Nicely done.
Thank you, Abhijit! Sadly so often a loss brings relationship to an end, adding heartbreak to tragedy. Maybe these two will find a way to hold each other’s sorrow and possibly a path to some healing.
No matter how much change we bring about, the past remains just that and haunts us…
Terrible memories. Time will heal.
Queen In Quicksand – Anita
True indeed! Thank you for the comment, and yes, I hope that time will heal them, too. Na’ama
His anxiety is tangible through your words. Brilliantly written
Thank you, Keith! 🙂
Haunting. It lingers after reading.
Thank you … I think … 😉 Yes, I think grief often is haunting, and lingers, and takes sneaky forms that wriggle into more aspects of one’s life than can be measured in words. Take you for taking the time to comment and I hope you’ll stop by again. Na’ama