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Post Info TOPIC: Short Story : MOVING INTO THE UNKNOWN..


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Short Story : MOVING INTO THE UNKNOWN..
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It had been, what she thought of as, a loosing year. It seemed all she did was loose...
First her job, followed closely by the death of her only son, followed by her home. That is not in order of importance, but chronological. One blow after another, until she felt as if Life itself, was a wrestling match, and she was taking the worst of beatings. Fate had her in a half-Nelson, while Life was bashing her with a big fat 'F' for Failure.  But, somewhere within her, another voice argued that it wasn't wrestling but more like baseball, and by golly, no matter if she was loosing, she still wanted her turn at bat.  And, so she sucked up her tears, swallowed back her fears, and kept swinging. But you're only allowed three strikes and you're out. Another whiney voice within her spoke.  She growled at herself to shutup.  She already felt as if she were made of spun-glass, ready to be dashed to pieces by the merest breeze. Besides, no call no foul...isn't that what Josh had always said?  That was for basketball, Whiney-self corrected her. 
So it was, after almost 20 years in the same home, she found herself picking and choosing amoungest her belongings and moving. What she couldn't take she tried to sell. Surely she only imagined that each item wept, just a little as it left her, to go with a new owner?  THINGS don't feel...only people do... and the loosing continued,
not only items but the family dog, too had to be found a new home.  That same week, the goldfish died, and the family cat went missing. "Oh, my God,"Whiney wispered, "You really ARE going to loose it ALL..." 
She looked towards moving  with a mixture of excitement and dread. Maybe Whiney was right.  Maybe she was loosing it all. Maybe she had even lost her sanity. Do crazy folks KNOW they're crazy?  With a deep breath, she made herself go over the 'facts' as she saw them again; fact 1, there is no work for me here, fact 2, there is nothing I can change nor alter about Josh's death. Fact 3, I either move, or the sheriff moves me. There IS no decissions to be made...Fate has decided for me. I can't do anything about what cards Lady Fate deals, but I CAN choose how to play them...
"Sure would help if you knew WHAT game you were playing," Whiney added.
Again she whispered to herself to SHUT-UP.  
THREE WEEKS LATER...
She didn't know what had moved fate to actually grant her a few favors, but she was grateful. By some miracle the house had sold. True she still had to move, but foreclosure was no longer another stigma to carry.  The same day, the house had an offer made, her realator had found her a small apartment that she could afford. So, she had loaded up her things and moved them across town. She had come back simply to..well to what, she really wasn't sure. Maybe it was simply to say good-bye to the house that had sheltered her and her child. To look one last time at the marks on the wall where she had charted his growth.  To lay her hand on the murals she had painted on his walls, and feel the energy of all those memories flow again. To ask the house to forgive her for all those small scars, a growing child will inflict on wooden floors and plaster walls. One more whispered 'sorry' for the holes she had inflicted pounding on them in her anguish and pain durring her turbalant marriage, the inevitable divorce, and the death of her child.   Maybe it was to THANK the house for having born silent witness to the past 20 years of her life. and to listen to the distant sounds of memories.  Reguardless of the reason, there she stood, in the echoing caverns of what had been home.
Whiney piped up out of nowhere, "Strike threeeeeeeeeeeeee! You loose! You have lost it ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL. No husband, no family, not even a mangy cat left you for company. You have lost it all! No job, no house-" Whiney's littany was cut short abruptly, by a distinct, loud meow. 
The woman stared hard in the direction of where she thought she had heard it come.  Meow.  Yes outside.  Meow.  She went to the door and opened it.  Meow. A familiar furry face stared up at her. The emerald eyes seeming to say, "You going somewhere I'm not?"   Stooping to scoop up the orange ball  of fur, she thought,"
I haven't lost everything, Whiney.  I got Simba back, and I got my memories. What's more, I still want my turn at bat. And further more, if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all!" With that  she stood, and locking the door behind stepped out into the unknown.


 


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