The Story That Was Told

Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined the story below being inspired by this photograph of a woman walking along an allee of trees in France, but this is what swirled together during a “progressive story” project I posted on my blog last week. Each person added a new line or idea to the narrative, and voila, this is what it turned into…

Photo of an autumn scene with a woman walking

I never imagined I’d be here at this moment in my life, but…

Grandfather told me in his last letter that he wanted me to always be honest with myself and others. I’ve chosen today to tell my family about my partner.

I never thought I’d choose the weekend of his funeral, but here I am in the very place I swore I’d never come back to, as beautiful as I remember, and still haunted with the very things time and distance would not let me forget.

I spotted Aunt Nadine first, who always had a soft spot for me, and touched her shoulder. For a second she didn’t recognize me and I braced for the familiar pang in my gut as my eyes searched hers expectantly. But then she smiled, and I felt the moment expand with relief and gratitude.

“How are you?” I whispered quietly. Without answering me, she asked, “You are looking restless and nervous; it seems like something is hurting you from deep inside.” I stepped back, shocked that my inner turmoil was visible to others, others I haven’t seen in so many years.

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