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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Prompts by HB - 1. Prompt #548

Prompt #548:
Use the following words in a story – Cold wind, blue sweater, bald man, postcard, and a gift.

Gusts of cold wind rattled the window pane and the blowing snow made it impossible to see the few yards from my front window to my driveway.

I used to love snow storms. I’d turn the fireplace on, make some hot chocolate, and curl up on the sofa under a blanket to watch the world turn white.

Now it just felt cold.

I guess that happens when you don’t have someone holding you to keep you warm.

Boxes littered every corner of my house—our house, that was now just mine. No one could say that I didn’t try. I tried every single day of the past year, waking up alone, moving through the rooms that were once filled with laughter, eating at an empty table, and then crawling into a cold bed. Every day, I did this with a fake smile plastered on my face. I didn’t want to do it anymore.

In the bedroom, my closet was half packed. All that remained were the winter clothes I was still wearing for the season. The two outfits I needed before moving day would go into a carryon and the rest would end up in boxes for the movers.

When I opened the carryon on my bed, it wasn’t empty, as I had expected. In the mesh lining of the top flap, there was a rectangular piece of paper—a postcard from Hawaii. It was the last vacation we took together.

Sunny beaches with ocean water lapping at our feet. Him with his silly wide-brimmed hat because he was so pale and always afraid of getting sunburnt. Grains of sand lodged in uncomfortable places after a particularly exciting morning spent rolling around in a dune.

We had meant to mail the postcard back to his parents before we left. But we’d forgotten; and it had been forgotten.

I debated about throwing it away. I had enough stuff to move already, and I didn’t need another piece of paper to keep track of. But my fingers couldn’t let it go, even as my hand hovered over the garbage bag. I stuffed it back into the carryon where I found it.

Sweaters first; I just need two. I grabbed the stack from the closet and put them on the bed. The two I wanted were on top. And right underneath them was the blue sweater, a gift from him.

Hand knit with the softest cashmere yarn. It had taken him more than a year to make, and by far the most ambitious project he’d worked on. He usually stuck to hats—a bald man could never use enough toques in the winter, he said.

I used to wear that sweater all the time, especially during snow storms like today. But I hadn’t touched it since he died, because if I wore it, then I’d expect him to come up behind me, rub his cheek against my shoulder and purr at the softness of the wool. And what would I do now when that didn’t happen?

The wool still felt soft under my fingers. Against my better judgement, I brought it up to my cheek. If I concentrated really hard, I imagined I could still smell him on it.

No, I would not cry. I’d cried enough tears this year—buckets full of tears. Deep breath, count to ten, and let it out to another ten second count.

Branches from the backyard tree scraped against the window pane, reminding me of the blizzard outside. Maybe one last time—just for old times' sake.

Slipping the sweater on over my head felt like I was traveling back in time. Back before the accident, before the hours of waiting at the hospital, before sitting at his bedside praying for him to wake up.

It took me back to a time when the wind howled outside, and the snow fell. I sat curled up on the sofa with my hot chocolate, warmed by a blanket and the fireplace. He curled up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, rubbing his cheek on my shoulder and purring like a cat.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s time to let go.”

Prompt #548:
Use the following words in a story – Cold wind, blue sweater, bald man, postcard, and a gift.
Copyright © 2017 Hudson Bartholomew; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Beautifully written. It's been 2 years for me and I often wonder when I'll cry my last tears.

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Great writing. So much emotion in so few paragraphs. I felt the cold, the void, the warmth and softness of the sweater that represented their life together. Sad and beautiful.

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On 01/18/2017 05:29 AM, Petey said:

Beautifully written. It's been 2 years for me and I often wonder when I'll cry my last tears.

Petey - sorry for your loss. I confess that the story is fictional for me, but I hope it brought some measure of comfort to you, however small. Thanks for sharing.

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On 01/18/2017 06:47 AM, MacGreg said:

Great writing. So much emotion in so few paragraphs. I felt the cold, the void, the warmth and softness of the sweater that represented their life together. Sad and beautiful.

Thanks, Mac. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

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Damn... you made me cry. :,( Nicely done. You conveyed a lot in few words. That's not that easy to do.

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On 01/18/2017 01:17 PM, Valkyrie said:

Damn... you made me cry. :,( Nicely done. You conveyed a lot in few words. That's not that easy to do.

Aw.. *passes the tissues* Thanks, Val.

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This brought tears to my eyes, Hudson. This September will be ten years since I lost my boyfriend and significant other. We were together for ten years, though we never actually shared a house--just spent a lot of time together and forged memories as deep as if we had. My guy was too independent to live with me, though i'd offered, but he did stay when we both needed it. I lost him when the pressure from his parents got to be too much, and he couldn't find that light at the end of the tunnel anymore.
So many memories, and even now, I shed tears when I think of him--how I won't feel his arms around me anymore, or run fingers thorugh his hair, or see his grin when he was feeling naughty. It had always been hard for him to open up, but he came closest with me...in that troubled soul was a kind and sensitive guy who in the end, got lost in the dark and put his sorrows down one final time.
Kevin, you were loved, and are sorely missed to this day. I hope you found the peace you so badly needed, and I hope we'll see each other again some day.

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On 01/19/2017 10:20 AM, ColumbusGuy said:

This brought tears to my eyes, Hudson. This September will be ten years since I lost my boyfriend and significant other. We were together for ten years, though we never actually shared a house--just spent a lot of time together and forged memories as deep as if we had. My guy was too independent to live with me, though i'd offered, but he did stay when we both needed it. I lost him when the pressure from his parents got to be too much, and he couldn't find that light at the end of the tunnel anymore.

So many memories, and even now, I shed tears when I think of him--how I won't feel his arms around me anymore, or run fingers thorugh his hair, or see his grin when he was feeling naughty. It had always been hard for him to open up, but he came closest with me...in that troubled soul was a kind and sensitive guy who in the end, got lost in the dark and put his sorrows down one final time.

Kevin, you were loved, and are sorely missed to this day. I hope you found the peace you so badly needed, and I hope we'll see each other again some day.

Thank you so much for sharing. No words can really do justice when we lose someone we love. But I'm sure your Kevin lives on in your memories and in the way he has touched your life. And although this little prompt is fictional for me, I glad it was able to connect with you.

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@Hudson Bartholomew Fantastic. For me at least, the story seems to live in two worlds for the reader. At first, perhaps our jaded sensibilities lead us to believe the partner is gone through a choice of his own. The pivot point occurs with the phrase "before he died." All that comes after is re-directed to sorrow and memories. It's sad the survivor is leaving their house, but somewhat of a relief too to know it's time. 

 

So well done. Amazing. Thanks for sharing it with us.

 

 

Edited by AC Benus
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6 hours ago, AC Benus said:

@Hudson Bartholomew Fantastic. For me at least, the story seems to live in two worlds for the reader. At first, perhaps our jaded sensibilities lead us to believe the partner is gone through a choice of his own. The pivot point occurs with the phrase "before he died." All that comes after is re-directed to sorrow and memories. It's sad the survivor is leaving their house, but somewhat of a relief too to know it's time. 

 

So well done. Amazing. Thanks for sharing it with us.

 

 

 

Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! 

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On 1/17/2017 at 1:29 PM, Petey said:

Beautifully written. It's been 2 years for me and I often wonder when I'll cry my last tears.

:hug:

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On 1/18/2017 at 6:20 PM, ColumbusGuy said:

This brought tears to my eyes, Hudson. This September will be ten years since I lost my boyfriend and significant other. We were together for ten years, though we never actually shared a house--just spent a lot of time together and forged memories as deep as if we had. My guy was too independent to live with me, though i'd offered, but he did stay when we both needed it. I lost him when the pressure from his parents got to be too much, and he couldn't find that light at the end of the tunnel anymore.
So many memories, and even now, I shed tears when I think of him--how I won't feel his arms around me anymore, or run fingers thorugh his hair, or see his grin when he was feeling naughty. It had always been hard for him to open up, but he came closest with me...in that troubled soul was a kind and sensitive guy who in the end, got lost in the dark and put his sorrows down one final time.
Kevin, you were loved, and are sorely missed to this day. I hope you found the peace you so badly needed, and I hope we'll see each other again some day.

:hug:

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