Brigits_Flame week two: Fading Away
Title: Fading Away
Prompt: The Journey Doesn't End Here...
For:
brigits_flame
Rating: PG
Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 658
Warnings: No warnings
Jeremy frantically started to rifle through the room. Although unsure of what he was looking for he quickly became angry when he realised he couldn’t find it. The make shift office was already a mess; his wife had never been the tidiest and would shrug off Jeremy’s suggestions of an organisational system with a laugh. For Alice, mess was proof that you were living, that there were more important things to do than tidy.
As Jeremy stumbled over sheets of scattered words and detailed maps of nowhere in particular, he noticed an old oak chest. Lord knows how he hadn’t noticed it before. It was big, six by three foot easy and at least two foot high. Jeremy ran his fingers over the half rusted hinges with a sigh, Alice was never one for keeping secrets but the fact that he had never seen nor heard her mention the chest filled him with dread. Why keep such a mystery? What secret could be so important that Alice felt the need to keep it under lock and key? ‘The key…’ Jeremy muttered suddenly, ‘where on earth would she keep the key?’ With a new found purpose Jeremy once again began to tear the room apart. He was less careful this time and full of urgency sending papers flying in each and every direction as he attempted to get to the desk. He searched each draw twice: the upper left contained character notes; the one below drawings. The two on the right housed the scrapes she’d written in haste and he knew if he put them together he’d have one hell of a tale. But that wasn’t his intention. Alice was gone and so were her stories. Ignoring the tears that were threatening to fall, Jeremy reached for the middle draw. He knew he was close, close to opening the chest and finding out the last secret of his beloved wife. Remembering how Alice was fond of puzzles and secret chambers he ran his hand around the inside of the draw, pressing in uncertain places in the hope of hearing the little click that would reward him with a hidden compartment. Nothing. He repeated the search thrice more: still nothing. 'How little he had known his wife,' he thought, 'and how much more would he loose?' Her voice, southern yet quiet, he could remember but no longer hear. Her face, forever young and beautiful he could no longer see. He would spend endless days lost in her photographs but he didn’t recognise the face. A mere copy of a person, no soul or spirit lingered in the reproductions and no life was found in the unmoving images. After three years Alice was finally slipping away but he wouldn’t give up on her, he couldn’t. The chest could hold anything and Jeremy believed that after it’s secrets were revealed he would find peace; he would know all he ever could and then he would join her in eternity.
As Jeremy stood he brushed the curtain that draped the large window and unexpected light forced its way into the room. Squinting he turned just in time to notice a glistening on the far wall. He slowly crossed the office, eyes fixated on the sliver of light that he hoped held all the answers. And there it was… tacked to the outer frame of one of Alice’s imagined landscapes was a little silver key. Jeremy grasped it and stood with palms sweating for a full minute before he finally had the courage to see if it would fit. With a beating heart he lifted the lid, hoping to find some consolation to his grief but all he found was an empty space and a scribbled note in Alice’s writing. The chest contained more questions than it did answers and Jeremy’s heart sunk with dread and longing as he realised he had a long way to go before he’d be reunited with his love.
Prompt: The Journey Doesn't End Here...
For:
brigits_flame
Rating: PG
Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 658
Warnings: No warnings
Jeremy frantically started to rifle through the room. Although unsure of what he was looking for he quickly became angry when he realised he couldn’t find it. The make shift office was already a mess; his wife had never been the tidiest and would shrug off Jeremy’s suggestions of an organisational system with a laugh. For Alice, mess was proof that you were living, that there were more important things to do than tidy.
As Jeremy stumbled over sheets of scattered words and detailed maps of nowhere in particular, he noticed an old oak chest. Lord knows how he hadn’t noticed it before. It was big, six by three foot easy and at least two foot high. Jeremy ran his fingers over the half rusted hinges with a sigh, Alice was never one for keeping secrets but the fact that he had never seen nor heard her mention the chest filled him with dread. Why keep such a mystery? What secret could be so important that Alice felt the need to keep it under lock and key? ‘The key…’ Jeremy muttered suddenly, ‘where on earth would she keep the key?’ With a new found purpose Jeremy once again began to tear the room apart. He was less careful this time and full of urgency sending papers flying in each and every direction as he attempted to get to the desk. He searched each draw twice: the upper left contained character notes; the one below drawings. The two on the right housed the scrapes she’d written in haste and he knew if he put them together he’d have one hell of a tale. But that wasn’t his intention. Alice was gone and so were her stories. Ignoring the tears that were threatening to fall, Jeremy reached for the middle draw. He knew he was close, close to opening the chest and finding out the last secret of his beloved wife. Remembering how Alice was fond of puzzles and secret chambers he ran his hand around the inside of the draw, pressing in uncertain places in the hope of hearing the little click that would reward him with a hidden compartment. Nothing. He repeated the search thrice more: still nothing. 'How little he had known his wife,' he thought, 'and how much more would he loose?' Her voice, southern yet quiet, he could remember but no longer hear. Her face, forever young and beautiful he could no longer see. He would spend endless days lost in her photographs but he didn’t recognise the face. A mere copy of a person, no soul or spirit lingered in the reproductions and no life was found in the unmoving images. After three years Alice was finally slipping away but he wouldn’t give up on her, he couldn’t. The chest could hold anything and Jeremy believed that after it’s secrets were revealed he would find peace; he would know all he ever could and then he would join her in eternity.
As Jeremy stood he brushed the curtain that draped the large window and unexpected light forced its way into the room. Squinting he turned just in time to notice a glistening on the far wall. He slowly crossed the office, eyes fixated on the sliver of light that he hoped held all the answers. And there it was… tacked to the outer frame of one of Alice’s imagined landscapes was a little silver key. Jeremy grasped it and stood with palms sweating for a full minute before he finally had the courage to see if it would fit. With a beating heart he lifted the lid, hoping to find some consolation to his grief but all he found was an empty space and a scribbled note in Alice’s writing. The chest contained more questions than it did answers and Jeremy’s heart sunk with dread and longing as he realised he had a long way to go before he’d be reunited with his love.