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616 kilter rd.
As snow blankets the once lush tobacco fields, the old woman sits by the window, her eyes beginning to show wear. She is waiting for something, that only she knows. All the while, children run wildly through the snow as lights are being strung on the houses, and the smell of peppermint flows from the chimneys, letting everyone know it’ s December.
The oak floors in the dead, still house were once filled with the sounds of little feet, running down the hallway to the kitchen, following the smell of homemade biscuits and gravy. Over the years the sounds have faded, becoming a mere memory.
The postman once mentioned that his worn, brown satchel would be filled with cards and gifts for the old woman, but that was many years before. With the years, the visits he had made delivering gifts had grown less. Then nothing.
Her aging face, shows no emotion while she sits in the gray wicker chair that is slowing falling apart, by the window each night, waiting--- for something no one understands.
“They’ll come home soon, Charles--,” she said as she stroked the cat’s back, “I know they will.” Charles, her loyal companion for years, has grown in age with the woman, understanding the pain in her now feeble voice, he purrs as if to comfort her, but her face remains still.
She sat numb in her chair by the brick fireplace, looking through the window while the wind cuts through the trees like a knife through margarine. The small fire gives off enough light to barely outline the bookcases, let alone the clock, covered in dust.
This once warm, loving home has become a dark, barren box holding all the lost memories. On the walls hang the idea of smiling children laughing, enjoying life. With each picture, they’re growing older, but their smiles were fading.
The focus in her eyes, fading with the light of the fire, now dimming, tears slowly begin trickling down her cheeks. After many years of waiting in silence, the realization, along with the pain has hit her. As she took in a slow, stuttering breath, trying to hold back the tears, she said, “They’re not coming back...”
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Yesterday, upon the stair,<br /> I met a man who wasn’t there<br /> He wasn’t there again today<br /> I wish, I wish he’d go away...