Thats it, just two more days until I dive fingertip first into this year's novel. I've spent the past month thinking and planning for the upcoming 50,000+ words. It's almost like meeting someone interesting online... you exchange emails, messages, maybe chat and share photos. Then you get to that point where its time to take it to the next level and actually meet face to face and see if there is actually anything more than just a fleeting attraction to a vague idea.
There is no telling what the next month is going to bring and the anticipation is building. It could be love at first vowel, or maybe we'll end up better as friends... the possibilities are endless.
In the meantime, its good to get out there and try out other smaller ideas, and to that end I bring on Word Prompt #3
Word Prompt #3 - Memory
The old man sat alone in his living room flipping through a worn, faded, scrapbook. His eyes skimmed through the pictures full of faces of people he’d known, places he’d been, things he’d seen. Over the years, his memories had grown as faded as the old photographs in the book, looking back over his life was like looking through the eyes of a stranger. It both frustrated and saddened him that he could no longer clearly recall the names and faces smiling up at him, all with the exception of her… Gloria, his beloved wife.
They had been married for over fifty years before she passed away. Fifty years waking up next to her in bed every morning, seeing her blue eyes sparkle as he kissed her good morning. Fifty years of birthdays, anniversaries, family dinners… he could recall every moment he spent with her, every kiss, every time she held his hand, the way she snuggled into the crook of his arm at the movies.
The old man’s grey eyes filled with tears as relived in his mind their wedding day. The way her hair gleamed in the sun light as she walked down the aisle, her eyes shining with love and promise. He recalled how her body felt against his on the dance floor as they danced their first dance to Sinatra’s The Way You Look Tonight. He relived the moment their son was born followed by a daughter and another son. They still visit… he thinks, but he can’t picture their faces the way he can picture how Gloria looked when he surprised her with breakfast in bed for their first anniversary.
She had been his whole world, his universe, his reason for living, and after Gloria passed, his world stopped being bright and clear. It was as though she was the glue that held his fractured memories together and with out her… he couldn’t keep hold of anything.
Alone in his living room, surrounded by cherished memories of his beloved wife, the old man quietly closed his eyes. For one last time, he brought forward the mental image of her face, her blue eyes warm and loving, her hair soft, her lips supple and inviting. He allowed himself to be wrapped up in her love. He could feel her near him, her hand on his hand warm and welcoming beaconing for him to rise and join her. As his heart slowed and sputtered and his breath came to a quiet end, he willed his soul to rise and be with her… he beloved Gloria.
