Die Writing

The lakeshore farewell

Posted in Uncategorized by erdaron on December 10, 2013


Who knows where the time goes?


The frigid air embraced Gregory, crept up the sleeves and the pant legs. His hands were going stiff. He briefly chastised himself for forgetting the gloves, but couldn’t stay focused on the frustration. The feeling dropped away and disappeared. He looked along the empty embankment, which circled the foggy lake infinitely in both directions. Pristine white trees lined the shore. Somewhere in the phantom distance, he heard seemingly agitated voices. But he couldn’t concentrate on them either, and so he let them go. Feeling floated away from him, but something pinned him.

“I’m sorry,” he finally gave it a name. The pure white light of the sun filtered through the fog. It illuminated the park with clean brilliance, but gave no warmth.

“You don’t have to be sorry anymore, Gregory. It’s alright.” It was Virginia’s voice, he knew it, but couldn’t quite see her.

“I was so angry, Virginia, so angry, so mad.”

“I know. I know. I was angry, too. I thought we were through, and all I saw was this terrible void. I didn’t know it wasn’t the end.”

“You came back. We came back. But I just held on, I stayed angry, and I didn’t… didn’t forgive you at all. And then…”

“And then I died.”

“And then you died.” His hands were frozen stiff now, and he felt he couldn’t stand up from the bench. He let out a deep breath, and it formed a glittering cloud in the frozen air. It began to expand and thin out and then merged with the fog. “I was late, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Gregory. It’s alright now.”

Gregory paused and took another look along the endless bank. Then, with ease that was both surprising and natural, he stood up and walked toward the water. Then sheer blanket of fog hovering over the water caught his weight, and Gregory continued on across the lake, weightless.