Saturday, June 13, 2009

Empty

[I should warn you, there is no redemption here, only stubborn hearts holding onto their own selfish realities...]


Tendrils of steam puffed out of chimneys on top of coffee cups, well manicured hands wrapped tight, clinging to the warmth. His eyes cried dry tears, lost in thought.

I don't know how it came to this.

Thirteen. Young, innocent, until he found the note laying on the floor by her bed. Had it fallen there. Had she left it. Should he read it. Does he dare, he does.

Why would she do this to me?

He straightens his shirt, fingers fiddling with his tie. If he had a cigarette he would smoke, but his solace comes in another drag of coffee. He shouldn't have read it, better off not knowing.

Why that boy?

Actions and attitudes, his own adolescence, thrust themselves upon him, sending involuntary shivers down his well aged back. Perspiration springs on furrowed brow, his napkin dabbing furiously. He knows the boys father and how he is.

I have always been there for her. I took her to mall just last week to be with friends.

Sliding into pressed pockets, hands retrieve his life line, new emails, missed calls...placing it on the table within view. Something to take his mind far from here, again.

She'll never go out alone again.

Contain, defend, offend. Pieces move around the battlefield of his life, rearranging like synchronized swimmers. Take that hill solider. Mandate, dictate, deny. Resigned he rises, physician healing thyself, on the way to the office.

She will never forgive him. All she ever wanted was a daddy, someone to love her, to realize she existed. Words never spoken, conversations never had led to empty houses, vacant lives, forcing her to find it elsewhere.


And so she did.


[The End? Will they find what they are looking for? Redemption held at arms length by validation, he for his position, she for her existence, ever elusive. All for want of a Father.]

11 comments:

Daniel said...

Struggling to come to grips with this one. My mind has painted a picture, but perhaps not the one intended.

Brian Miller said...

@daniel - hang tight, more to come...

subtorp77 said...

Okay, now I'm following this one, as well. Strange as it may seem, this sorta relates to some-one I know....

Rich Grasso said...

Intersting, very very intersting....

Brian Miller said...

@subtorp - does not surprise me...next part will be up first thing in the morning.

@rich - thanks for stopping by! hopefully it will stay interesting...

Tom said...

what is this...something new?

Candie Bracci said...

Ah I haven't seen the first part!Sorry!This is great,a story or reality?Anyway,this is well written!

Lorraine said...

Happy endings are important to me. I read pain better when I know it will end. This is lovely, you are so gifted Brian!

Mrsupole said...

Great now I can read the first part, I still hope everything works out. So sad for all the wasted years.

God bless.

Brian Miller said...

@candie - reality and this is the first part continued in the next. sorry, i alluded but was not clear...

@lorraine - all happy at this point but it took them many years to get to the point they could crawl out of their own fox holes...

@mrsu - yeah it is a sad story, with a silver lining. we need more of those silver linings...

Valerie said...

Brian, you hold me enthralled... it's not an easy thing to do but you made it. Eagerly awaiting more.
The Notebook is one of my treasures and I play the soundtrack nearly every day.