Gina's Whimsical World

and when she speaks

Tuesday, September 05, 2006
10:14 PM

A little creative writing

Recently the FGM's were given a writing prompt .... while cleaning out your attic you find an old chest. Inside lies an old artifact and when you touch it you are transported to another time and place.... This is what I came up with. Funny how sometimes you struggle to write anything and other times it just flows. Just ignore the punctuation ... my system does not want to deal with it tonight and I do not feel like figuring out the symbols.

Its that time, she said to herself, girding herself up to tackle the last ties to the life that once was. The weather outside was cold and damp. The wind buffeting the windows of the old house that was once so full of life and laughter, but now sat empty and cold. The movers had taken the last load of furniture and all that remained was her thermos, her memories and the few remaining items in the attic. Slowly she climbed the stairs, her hand trailing along the banister, her fingertips sparking memories with each step she took. Sliding down into safe warm hugs, holiday decorations strung from one end to another, starting the descent from one life to another listening to the sound of the wedding march … so many memories, yet such a lifetime ago.
Stepping into the attic was like stepping back into childhood. For a moment the howling wind and tapping branches made her heart pound just like it did playing hide and seek eons ago. Silly!, she shook her head to clear it and move on with her work. Now was not the time to dwell in the past, the realtor would be there to take the keys soon and she had a long drive ahead. Most of the boxes were easily sorted. This one to a local charity, this one to be discarded. She carted the boxes down the stairs not allowing the luxury of her memories to distract her. One last trip to the attic to make sure nothing was missed and she could put this part of her life behind her. With a cursory look, she turned to leave the room that had brought her such joy when something caught the corner of her eye. How could she have missed this chest?
Sitting in the corner under an eave was an old chest. One that she didnt remember seeing before. It was medium sized and not very heavy. Its wooden finish clearly done by hand and lovingly. There was a lock on it with a shiny key sitting in the lock. How odd, she thought, since the key looked recently polished. No one had been in the house for months. She looked out the window debating the intensity of the storm and how much time she had before the realtor arrived. She opened the chest and felt her heart stop. Cushioned in faded tissue there was a carefully folded quilt in the most amazing colors. She was compelled to touch it and when she did, she felt herself transported to that special day when she had left this house to start a new one of her own. The giggles of the girls as they all primped and fussed over her, arranging her veil before they lined up to proceed her down the staircase. The smell of the flowers in her bouquet, the tears in her grandfathers eyes as he gave her away, the love shining in the eyes of her new husband. It was as if she was reliving the moment and her heart swelled with emotion. Emotion she thought she was no longer capable of. The quilt slipped from her fingers and she found herself once again in the darkened corner of the attic. Wiping a tear, she bent to pick up the quilt and was instantly transported to another time. Sitting in the kitchen, the smell of peaches permeating the air, her grandmother was singing and correcting her stirring. You have to put your heart into it, she said every time they made her famous preserves. It was a special time that she always looked forward to. Again the quilt slipped from her fingers while she stood locked in the past and her memories. She looked down and saw her life in the intricate swirls of color. Her favorite baby blanket, pieces of her grandmother’s apron, bits and pieces of her prom dresses, graduation robe, her wedding gown, her grandfather’s shirts .. A lifetime of memories to wrap up in and relive. She draped the quilt around her shoulders, carrying the chest close to her heart. She met the realtor with tears in her eyes, a smile on her face and a heart that no longer felt broken. The weight that had been resting on her shoulders could no longer push her down, wrapped in the armor of her grandmothers love. As she stepped out of the house one last time, she touched a corner of the quilt and felt herself breathe. It really would be okay.

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