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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Death / Heartbreak / Loss
- Published: 11/13/2015
The snow was falling again, drifting snow, making small dunes that remind her of sand dunes. Mag stood at her kitchen door looking out the window. Her black dress hanging loosely from her sagging shoulders. Shoulders that bent under a heavy burden that was not strapped to her body but most certainly to her soul. At only 46 she felt as if she must be a 100. Her once ample body now growing thin, who said beauty comes with losing weight?, instead of beauty she only looked haggard and aged.
The cold slipping in around a door that needed to have been weather proofed years ago hardly penetrated her mind. The warmth from her breath causing steam on the single pane door window. She didn't care. She thought of Joe, if he were standing here he would make the window fog and write silly notes with his finger or draw pictures. She recalled such a picture of a heart, the words, love ya mom, she had smiled inside but scolded, 'you're going to wash that window young man'.
Gazing at the drifting snow, so much passed though the doors of her mind. She wished her high school sweetheart and perfect soul mate stood by her side. She missed Bill's strong arm around her shoulder. She missed how only after a few seconds he would let his hand, as if by accident, flop down over her breast, then as if it was going to shock her, her would cup and squeeze saying, "boobies, I love boobies". She would slap his hand, he would jerk it back, in seconds to return. She could smell the coffee on his breath, mixed with the heavy dose of cream.
But Bill was not there, he had joined the army. "Hey Mag, in 20 years I can retire and live my life with a fat check and fishing." She tried to argue but he cut her off, "baby, there isn't any good jobs in this area, the money isn't great but the benefits are better than the saw mill."
Things were going so good, she gave birth to Joey on a cold snowy night, and Bill was making rank quickly. So the pay was getting better, and he was so proud when her got his Sargent strips.
She remembered his call, only a few weeks after 9/11, "baby we are headed overseas, I won't get to come home before I leave, but hey, I will see you soon." She never saw him again. a rocket hit the Hummer he was in, just leaving his body parts scattered across the sand. She thought of the kisses that now only lived in her mind, that taste of coffee heavy with cream.
She had never thought much about politics until she stood at the grave where a box with lots of loose body parts was lowered into the ground. All her Christian Faith and upbringing meant nothing in that moment. Holding Joe's hand, in her head she used language that never had crossed her lips. Foul words of hate to a president that was guilty of the blood of her soul mate.
When Joey enlisted his senior year, that same war was still going on, the tough talking business man, who promised to make our country great, was demanding young men to stand with courage and fight. How did fighting a war they could not win make her country great? Joey insisted that he was going to finish what his dad started.
She had already lost her job at the factory, like so many small factories, it was gone. The wall between America and Mexico had not stopped her factory from moving its starter plant there. Banks were in bad shape, foreclosing on folks left and right. She glanced at her final notice still laying on the kitchen counter. The only jobs seemed to be at hospitals and mortuaries, where she lived. The saw mills were gone, the local grocery closed, only one gas station left in town, even the diner now sat empty. Only the rich were doing well.
Today none of that mattered, the snow was gone in the mind and there was a ten year old red headed boy, on his own trying to build a tree house. The snow was back the cold made her shiver. she saw the remains of the tree house with icicles hanging from its few boards. A voice called from the other room, "come on dear, we have to go now". Her Daddy, who looked as if he was ten years older than he was, put his arm around her. "We have to go and put Joe to rest now and say goodbye."
She wanted to scream, but no words came. Joe, her Joey, was gone by a snipers shell in his first battle. What was that tough talking big mouth going to do for her now? Now she had nothing. as she turned to leave, her eye caught in the steam from her breath on that window, a heart, inside the heart, love ya mom.
A Heart, Inside the Heart(Rich Puckett)
The snow was falling again, drifting snow, making small dunes that remind her of sand dunes. Mag stood at her kitchen door looking out the window. Her black dress hanging loosely from her sagging shoulders. Shoulders that bent under a heavy burden that was not strapped to her body but most certainly to her soul. At only 46 she felt as if she must be a 100. Her once ample body now growing thin, who said beauty comes with losing weight?, instead of beauty she only looked haggard and aged.
The cold slipping in around a door that needed to have been weather proofed years ago hardly penetrated her mind. The warmth from her breath causing steam on the single pane door window. She didn't care. She thought of Joe, if he were standing here he would make the window fog and write silly notes with his finger or draw pictures. She recalled such a picture of a heart, the words, love ya mom, she had smiled inside but scolded, 'you're going to wash that window young man'.
Gazing at the drifting snow, so much passed though the doors of her mind. She wished her high school sweetheart and perfect soul mate stood by her side. She missed Bill's strong arm around her shoulder. She missed how only after a few seconds he would let his hand, as if by accident, flop down over her breast, then as if it was going to shock her, her would cup and squeeze saying, "boobies, I love boobies". She would slap his hand, he would jerk it back, in seconds to return. She could smell the coffee on his breath, mixed with the heavy dose of cream.
But Bill was not there, he had joined the army. "Hey Mag, in 20 years I can retire and live my life with a fat check and fishing." She tried to argue but he cut her off, "baby, there isn't any good jobs in this area, the money isn't great but the benefits are better than the saw mill."
Things were going so good, she gave birth to Joey on a cold snowy night, and Bill was making rank quickly. So the pay was getting better, and he was so proud when her got his Sargent strips.
She remembered his call, only a few weeks after 9/11, "baby we are headed overseas, I won't get to come home before I leave, but hey, I will see you soon." She never saw him again. a rocket hit the Hummer he was in, just leaving his body parts scattered across the sand. She thought of the kisses that now only lived in her mind, that taste of coffee heavy with cream.
She had never thought much about politics until she stood at the grave where a box with lots of loose body parts was lowered into the ground. All her Christian Faith and upbringing meant nothing in that moment. Holding Joe's hand, in her head she used language that never had crossed her lips. Foul words of hate to a president that was guilty of the blood of her soul mate.
When Joey enlisted his senior year, that same war was still going on, the tough talking business man, who promised to make our country great, was demanding young men to stand with courage and fight. How did fighting a war they could not win make her country great? Joey insisted that he was going to finish what his dad started.
She had already lost her job at the factory, like so many small factories, it was gone. The wall between America and Mexico had not stopped her factory from moving its starter plant there. Banks were in bad shape, foreclosing on folks left and right. She glanced at her final notice still laying on the kitchen counter. The only jobs seemed to be at hospitals and mortuaries, where she lived. The saw mills were gone, the local grocery closed, only one gas station left in town, even the diner now sat empty. Only the rich were doing well.
Today none of that mattered, the snow was gone in the mind and there was a ten year old red headed boy, on his own trying to build a tree house. The snow was back the cold made her shiver. she saw the remains of the tree house with icicles hanging from its few boards. A voice called from the other room, "come on dear, we have to go now". Her Daddy, who looked as if he was ten years older than he was, put his arm around her. "We have to go and put Joe to rest now and say goodbye."
She wanted to scream, but no words came. Joe, her Joey, was gone by a snipers shell in his first battle. What was that tough talking big mouth going to do for her now? Now she had nothing. as she turned to leave, her eye caught in the steam from her breath on that window, a heart, inside the heart, love ya mom.
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