Short stories/ One shots

In Loving Memory Of The Past

An old woman sat by the window, an old photograph resting in her hand. Her hair was in a loose bun, strands of curly, silver hair falling into her face, shadowing her dark brown orbs. A faint smile covered her lips. Stroking the photograph lovingly with her thumb, she sighed. Her back was bent, like an old back usually was, albeit hers was bent since she had spent such a long time working.

Her body was tired, she was over 90 at the moment, but time never seemed to consume her. Maybe she should be happy, maybe not. All she could think of was all that was lost. She had lived through the lives of most of her friends, barely even a few left. Dark lashes framed her eyes, wet from old tears. They never seemed to subdue either. She thought back on her life. "What an adventure" most would say, awe clear in their voice and faces. She would then smile, tell them a story about a very brave woman. A woman that now only existed in her memory. Her children used to love these stories, never got tired of them, even when meeting the heroine in real life. They looked up to her, imitated her, loved her. Much like she had always done herself.

The old woman sighed once again, tears welling up in her eyes. She stopped trying to wipe them away a long time ago. Slowly, as if she was afraid time itself would shatter at any sudden move, she stood up. She rested against the window, watching the scenery turn orange, then maroon. Like her hair once had been. The woman smiled, larger this time. If she was here she would probably laugh at her before trying to cheer her up. Saying something along the lines: "Look forward to tomorrow. Isn't it amazing how we never know what will happen tomorrow, or the day after? Everything might happen. No use being sad if tomorrow awaits you." Tears silently made their way down wrinkled cheeks. Her smile didn't seem to disappear, no matter how sad she felt. It had become a part of her, never leaving. Why? You may ask. It's very easy; you can not not smile while thinking of her. It was close to impossible.

She clutched the tattered photograph to her chest. Oh, how she missed her. It had been a long time, way too long. She had disappeared before her time. Left everyone to mourn. She would have smacked them in the face if she knew, telling them to go on, she wouldn't be sad to be gone. Always content with her life. She didn't regret anything. She would want everyone to live life to the fullest and then laugh at how cliché it had sounded. She would do anything to hug her, only once again. She took one shaky breath. She missed her, even after all these years.

Her thumb traced the smile, always large. Both in person and in pictures. Always. Two slightly sharper canines, contrasting the rest of her round, pearly teeth. The woman had always loved her smile. It was encouraging, teasing, loving, and warm, all at the same time. She wiped away a teardrop, that had landed a bit above her hair. It was one of her most precious belongings, not even her own tears dared to destroy it. The smile on the photograph was a light in her life, making her stand strong and face the world. It reminded her of the loved ones she had left, the ones that were to come.

The door behind her slammed open, she wasn't startled, over time she had become numbed to any form of surprise or fright, maybe because she had done it too often. Three pairs of feet trotted towards her, she turned around with a smile, large, bright and honest. Striking eyes looked up at her. One pair light turquoise, another pair lavendel, and the last pair light grey. How they all had gotten her eyes bewildered her. Their mother walked in after them. She did however not have the eyes of her mother, instead her hair had the same dark maroon hue, curly and short around her face. The three children bounced up and down around the old woman, none of them above the age of ten. All smiling.

"Hello Auntie. Your husband is outside, waiting for you," their mother announced, her own mother's smile evident on her face. The old woman smiled at her. Patting the children on their heads she walked towards their mother. They were about the same height, she thought briefly before standing on the tip of her toes to ruffle the young woman's hair too. The woman pouted, but the corners of her mouth twitched, wanting to break into a smile.

Outside the sun shone dimly in the distance. Her husband stood in the shadows of the large oaktree. His eyes shone when they met with hers, with more love than the day before, as they always did. Even if they had known each for almost a century. Her heart fluttered. Maybe it was funny, how an old lady such as herself still felt fluttering in her heart when her eyes met with her husband's. He put his arm around her, kissing her on her temple. She smiled. Even with his young elegance, he never made her feel old, nor ugly. They were an odd pair, you couldn't really explain it any other way. With his tall, broad frame, her tiny, plump one, his striking purple hair, her silvery white one.

"Are you okay sweetie?" he asked, eyes bright and watching her lovingly, his tone soft. She loved his voice. If she could she would listen to it forever. She wasn't afraid of death, she knew he would be by her side. They slowly started to walk towards the hill where the woman in the photo slept. The older woman knew that her husband wasn't expecting a response, but still with a smile; she whispered back.

"Yes."