I Have Written a Short Story
I broke the news today. I've stopped by a few times since it happened, each time working up the courage to tell you and each time failing. Shame and sorrow burning in my chest I sit on a smooth marble bench, the sweet smell of the first magnolia of spring perfuming the cool air, the words falling from my mouth like the sun through the leathery ovate leaves. I remember the first time I sat under this tree, on a late September day years ago. The poor thing was sickly looking, only a few feet tall but the years have been far kinder to it than I could have imagined. Now it is almost grand, it's shadow spreading long across the grass in the slanted afternoon. This tree has seen me countless times in the company of many, and as I speak I wonder if it hears me. I wonder if you hear me. Are you mad at me? Do you blame me for this the same way the others do?
The sun's long fingers scratch through the sky, dragging down dusk and the temperature with it. I shiver, but still cannot bring myself to move from this spot. I still have so much to tell you, to explain myself to anyone at all. The last rays caress the cold stone that bears your name and my fingers catch the petals of the flowers I clutch. I pick absently at them, I don't think you would mind me marring their shape a little. Each petal that falls on your grave echoes the apologies I've said a thousand times and tears explain the things thay I never could. I am the last one, the sole keeper of so many memories now that no one will ever understand. I am so afraid. I face a lifetime ahead of me without the two who have known me best. And I don't know what to do. Now that he has followed you into the great beyond.... I am lost. I am so lost and alone that I can't even find the courage to stand from this place. I think for a moment that perhaps this is where I should end, right here under this magnolia tree. It wouldn't be so bad after all, the cold would be a comfort and I might find you both again. No more fear, no more hurt, or bitterness, anger, regret, or blame. It would be so easy. But the thought is gone almost as quickly as it comes. Almost.
I take from my pocket a small corked vial that looks to be filled with dark grey sand, but I know better. This is the last kindness our old friends have afforded me. I have a small piece to bury in the dirt by your headstone, a small piece of him to keep you company since he is now buried hundreds of miles away and it will be years before I join you. I turn it over, marveling morbidly how much I used to love these bits of carbon. Even when you died and I got blamed and things went bad. I still loved him, as I still loved you even after.... And how I will always love the both of you.
I use my fingers to scoop out a tiny hole in front of the stone and slide the vile in the dirt. I cover it and stand, brushing my hands off and arranging the flowers below your name. A few tears follow as I say goodbye again. I will always miss you two, my childhood friends, my brothers, my greatest mistakes, two pieces of my heart that no one will ever fill.
Night overtakes the day and I have to go, but I promise that I'll return again when the dark night of the soul finds me and I need to feel close to you again. No matter how old I get, or how far my feet take me I will always return to the place beneath the magnolia tree.
The sun's long fingers scratch through the sky, dragging down dusk and the temperature with it. I shiver, but still cannot bring myself to move from this spot. I still have so much to tell you, to explain myself to anyone at all. The last rays caress the cold stone that bears your name and my fingers catch the petals of the flowers I clutch. I pick absently at them, I don't think you would mind me marring their shape a little. Each petal that falls on your grave echoes the apologies I've said a thousand times and tears explain the things thay I never could. I am the last one, the sole keeper of so many memories now that no one will ever understand. I am so afraid. I face a lifetime ahead of me without the two who have known me best. And I don't know what to do. Now that he has followed you into the great beyond.... I am lost. I am so lost and alone that I can't even find the courage to stand from this place. I think for a moment that perhaps this is where I should end, right here under this magnolia tree. It wouldn't be so bad after all, the cold would be a comfort and I might find you both again. No more fear, no more hurt, or bitterness, anger, regret, or blame. It would be so easy. But the thought is gone almost as quickly as it comes. Almost.
I take from my pocket a small corked vial that looks to be filled with dark grey sand, but I know better. This is the last kindness our old friends have afforded me. I have a small piece to bury in the dirt by your headstone, a small piece of him to keep you company since he is now buried hundreds of miles away and it will be years before I join you. I turn it over, marveling morbidly how much I used to love these bits of carbon. Even when you died and I got blamed and things went bad. I still loved him, as I still loved you even after.... And how I will always love the both of you.
I use my fingers to scoop out a tiny hole in front of the stone and slide the vile in the dirt. I cover it and stand, brushing my hands off and arranging the flowers below your name. A few tears follow as I say goodbye again. I will always miss you two, my childhood friends, my brothers, my greatest mistakes, two pieces of my heart that no one will ever fill.
Night overtakes the day and I have to go, but I promise that I'll return again when the dark night of the soul finds me and I need to feel close to you again. No matter how old I get, or how far my feet take me I will always return to the place beneath the magnolia tree.
