Checkerboard | m.h |

Epilogue

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Okay, so there's only one song for the epilogue and it's In My Veins by Andrew Belle. I recommend starting the song when it says "when suddenly, everything starts to blur". Yet, you can always play it whenever you want. :) either way, enjoy.
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The sound of dishes lightly clinking against each other downstairs wakes him up. There is this light chatter of small children and this elderly, mothered laugh that trickles up the familiar stairs of the house he'd bought nearly two years ago. The tap is running in the kitchen, the drapes are open in his room, and the opened windows allow a light breeze in. The silken creme drapes blow in the wind that is like soft breath falling upon tan skin. The sun is shining, and there is a greenish tint that comes from outside and the trees that loom in his backyard. His sheets are made on the side of the bed that is not his, not a wrinkle that causes a wave in his navy comforter. On the bedside table beside him, three pills and a tall glass of water are placed there neatly with a note.

Slowly, he reaches over, feeling sluggish and barely alive but a smile on his lips as he reads the writing.

'We'll be in the park around noon if you want to meet us. Lilian was very eager to wake you up because she's excited to see you back but I told her to let you sleep for a bit. She misses you. Take the pills. We'll see you. Love - Andrea.

P.S I hope you wake up when it's still sunny. It's supposed to rain after 2:00. Lily would love to play in the park with her father while it's sunny out.'

He smiles and walks to the bathroom, arms stretching up to the ceiling. As usual, he taps the middle of the top of the door frame as he passes and looks at himself in the mirror. His skin is wrinkled just at the corner of his eyes and his laugh lines are more prominent than ever. His eyes seem softer and show none of the teenage angst he'd held until his late twenties. He has stubble from not shaving and his hair is disheveled and a mess but it is not like he cares very much for it anyways. At the age of thirty five, he does not look bad at all.

After a quick shower, which alerts the two ladies downstairs he is awake, he quickly dresses and comes bumbling down the stairs. Lilian, his daughter, is waiting at the bottom of the steps with a wide, toothy grin and crazy curly hair that mimics his. She is nearly as tall as his hips but her skin is as tan as her mother's and her eyes are wide and doe-like. Yet, she has beautiful crinkles beside them and her arms are outstretched for him to pick her up. In a quick whirl, he lifts her from the ground and spins her around in the air, groaning as he did so.

She is giggling like mad as she says between laughs, "Daddy is an old manny!"

At this, he chuckles and brings Lilian's face down to meet his, nose touching hers and she murmurs something about him looking like a cyclops as her small hands fall lightly on his cheeks. Quickly, however, his face turns serious and he narrows his eyes. "Who're you calling old?"

"Daddy," she says simply, the sass she's collected from her two parents showing as she does this head bob. He cannot help but grin and roll his eyes before removing his face from hers and placing her lightly on his shoulders.

"Alright, where's Mommy?" he asks, not caring that he knew the answer to his own question. He holds his hands up for her to hold on to and she takes them gracefully, putting all her weight (which is not much at all) into his palms.

"Thank you, Daddy," she says offhandedly before answering his original question with a small, "in the kitchen."

"How's school?" he muses for a moment, missing how she talked on and on about nothing and everything all at once.