Euphoria
4 Colly Birds
My story bit for today is as follows:
Ryan reached out and touched the door and it swung open
easily under her fingers. Tinkling piano
music spilled out and engulfed her, cloaking Ryan in the perfect joy of
recognition. She stepped forward onto
the pink shag carpeting that lined the train car. Sunlight spilled through the windows, curtained
in rose-patterned gauze. Porcelain birds
covered every surface, posed in flight, nesting, perched calling on
branches. Those birds had been Nana’s
pride and joy. In fact, the only time
Ryan remembered being scolded by her beloved grandparents was the time that she
had broken one, and then lied about it.
The tears in her Papa’s eyes at the lie had been almost more than she
could bear.
At the piano, oh at the piano sat
her Nana and Papa themselves, lost to Ryan now for five years when Nana finally
gave in to the dementia and illness that had claimed her completely two years
before. Still, here they were, playing
Heart and Soul as a duet as they always had.
Ryan cried out and they turned, smiling widely, their dark eyes
twinkling as they always had.
“So,” Nana said, exactly as she had when Ryan was a girl, “I
see our girl has come for a visit.”
Ryan ran across the room, flinging herself into their arms,
breathing in the scent of Nana’s rosewater, and Papa’s pipe tobacco. She scrubbed her face back and forth across
the rough polyester of her grandfather’s cardigan, and stroked Nana’s long
white hair where it spilled down her back.
“What are you doing here?”
she asked.
Please, wander over to the website and see the offerings that the other Irons have left. While your there, read what this Iron Writer thing is all about and, if you think you have what it takes, sign up for a challenge.
