water?”
“I’ll be fine. But you’re right. Maybe I’ll check out the fabrics you have in stock first.”
“That might be a good idea.” Steve led me to the back of the store and pointed to the yarn and fabrics on display. As we walked, Steve looked at me. “You know when one door closes, another door opens.”
“I keep hearing that, but it’s the hallway I find scary.”
“You got that right.” He sounded a little out of breath. “Let me know if I can help you find anything.”
“Thank you, Steve.”
I watched him limp to the cash register wishing I could afford to buy all of his sheets of glass. The store had definitely seen better days. After making my selections, I paid and promised to return soon.
As I walked to my car parked at the curb, my eyes scanned the crowd. No sight of Blake. I drove home in the drizzle consumed in thought. With a smile lighting my face, I raced along my walkway, thinking about Blake. It began to pour. Even though I parked by the front door to unload the car, I decided to wait until later. For several minutes, I stood on the porch, watching the rain, and then turned to enter the house. I hesitated in the doorway, stepped inside, and closed the door. I leaned against the doorframe, glancing around. I was greeted with silence. Even my dog was silent.
I stepped over Elky, sprawled across a foyer rug, thinking she wasn’t much of a watchdog. She opened one eye to glance my way, curled up her lips in a doggy smile or maybe just a twitch, and then continued sleeping.
Standing alone in the stillness, I heard the sound of a ticking clock resonating through the house. But I don’t own a ticking clock! Was that my heart pounding in my ears? I plugged my fingers in my ears and still heard the ticking noise, but this time faster—and faster.
Tick . . . tick . . . tick . . . tick . . . tick . . . tick—BOOM!
I grabbed the fluffy pillow from the foyer bench, covered my mouth, and let out a muffled scream. The ticking stopped. A moment later, I tossed the pillow onto the bench, shook myself back to reality, and slowly walked through the house. My flopping sandals echoed like blasting gunshots across the floor and walls, breaking the painful silence. From room to room I walked, alone. When will this empty feeling finally stop?
As I peered into each silent room, I saw only shadows from my past. Hard as I tried to quell the memories that whispered here, they were all around me, impossible to subdue. I felt a pang of loneliness and wondered what I should do about the gaping holes in my life.
I snapped my finger as the answer seemed to appear magically. My first stop would be the gateway to the world—my computer. And there I sat, swiveling in my chair, in front of the computer, reflecting on my life. I leaned back and pondered about what was missing.
Maybe for distraction, just a quick trip down memory lane would be fun. I could look up some old friends and try to reconnect. My first priority, I decided, was searching for Blake.
Since discovering that photo from my memory box, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Was that him today? We did have amazing chemistry, back in the good old days. It seemed like such a distant time, so long ago. And if that was Blake, he was as handsome as ever.
What if I just sent him a quick hello on the computer? He must be easy to look up. What was the harm, right? If he’s not interested, then he won’t reply—easy enough. My heart beat faster.
Luckily, Facebook made the search easy. I typed his name and much to my surprise, I found him. He does use Facebook. And looking at his tiny, blurred picture created even more memories. Why did I wait so long to do this?
Oh, why not? I started to type him a message: Remember me? It has been a long time, but I wanted to say hello. Love your Facebook picture. You look the same after all these years. It would be wonderful to talk to you about old times.
I sat lost in thought. Should I send that message? We
“I’ll be fine. But you’re right. Maybe I’ll check out the fabrics you have in stock first.”
“That might be a good idea.” Steve led me to the back of the store and pointed to the yarn and fabrics on display. As we walked, Steve looked at me. “You know when one door closes, another door opens.”
“I keep hearing that, but it’s the hallway I find scary.”
“You got that right.” He sounded a little out of breath. “Let me know if I can help you find anything.”
“Thank you, Steve.”
I watched him limp to the cash register wishing I could afford to buy all of his sheets of glass. The store had definitely seen better days. After making my selections, I paid and promised to return soon.
As I walked to my car parked at the curb, my eyes scanned the crowd. No sight of Blake. I drove home in the drizzle consumed in thought. With a smile lighting my face, I raced along my walkway, thinking about Blake. It began to pour. Even though I parked by the front door to unload the car, I decided to wait until later. For several minutes, I stood on the porch, watching the rain, and then turned to enter the house. I hesitated in the doorway, stepped inside, and closed the door. I leaned against the doorframe, glancing around. I was greeted with silence. Even my dog was silent.
I stepped over Elky, sprawled across a foyer rug, thinking she wasn’t much of a watchdog. She opened one eye to glance my way, curled up her lips in a doggy smile or maybe just a twitch, and then continued sleeping.
Standing alone in the stillness, I heard the sound of a ticking clock resonating through the house. But I don’t own a ticking clock! Was that my heart pounding in my ears? I plugged my fingers in my ears and still heard the ticking noise, but this time faster—and faster.
Tick . . . tick . . . tick . . . tick . . . tick . . . tick—BOOM!
I grabbed the fluffy pillow from the foyer bench, covered my mouth, and let out a muffled scream. The ticking stopped. A moment later, I tossed the pillow onto the bench, shook myself back to reality, and slowly walked through the house. My flopping sandals echoed like blasting gunshots across the floor and walls, breaking the painful silence. From room to room I walked, alone. When will this empty feeling finally stop?
As I peered into each silent room, I saw only shadows from my past. Hard as I tried to quell the memories that whispered here, they were all around me, impossible to subdue. I felt a pang of loneliness and wondered what I should do about the gaping holes in my life.
I snapped my finger as the answer seemed to appear magically. My first stop would be the gateway to the world—my computer. And there I sat, swiveling in my chair, in front of the computer, reflecting on my life. I leaned back and pondered about what was missing.
Maybe for distraction, just a quick trip down memory lane would be fun. I could look up some old friends and try to reconnect. My first priority, I decided, was searching for Blake.
Since discovering that photo from my memory box, I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Was that him today? We did have amazing chemistry, back in the good old days. It seemed like such a distant time, so long ago. And if that was Blake, he was as handsome as ever.
What if I just sent him a quick hello on the computer? He must be easy to look up. What was the harm, right? If he’s not interested, then he won’t reply—easy enough. My heart beat faster.
Luckily, Facebook made the search easy. I typed his name and much to my surprise, I found him. He does use Facebook. And looking at his tiny, blurred picture created even more memories. Why did I wait so long to do this?
Oh, why not? I started to type him a message: Remember me? It has been a long time, but I wanted to say hello. Love your Facebook picture. You look the same after all these years. It would be wonderful to talk to you about old times.
I sat lost in thought. Should I send that message? We
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