Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Entry #20

"Beacons"
by John Wilson


Walking slowly up the familiar staircase, I silently counted the steps like I had so many times before as a child. The eighth step still creaked and I smiled at that. As I reached the top of the landing, the warm light of the old hallway lamps enveloped me in their soft glow. Kate, already upstairs and lost in thought, drifted out of her old bedroom. Seeing me she sent a sad knowing smile my way, her face accented by the twin lamps.

We wandered through the empty farmhouse that late afternoon just as the day was ending and dusk began its short shadowy work. We paused, touched things and privately watched memories play short, long ago scenes in our minds. Occasionally we quietly looked and smiled at each other, recalling the same things. We shared and smiled, laughed and cried.

Our parents were now both gone, mother joining father and this was our final walk through before auction day. We had worked for days deciding what to keep, and work it was. So much we wanted to keep, so much we cherished.

We’d come back for one last thing. The two glass lamps. They had guided us to the safety of each others rooms after bad dreams, provided light during bad storms with no electricity, beckoned to us while driving home late at night. They had lighted our young lives. Night having fallen, we finally left our safe harbor for the last time, each with a beacon in hand.

11 comments:

Erik Ivan James said...

This is a very pleasing story. Felt good to read it.

Bernita said...

Concur with Erik.

Jeff said...

Touching story, John. :)

Robin said...

I especially liked the last line!

Unknown said...

Thank you all for commenting. I appreciate it.

-John.

Kelly (Lynn) Parra said...

Good to see you here, John! Another beautiful story. =D

-Kelly from FM

Lyn said...

Nicely done - the passing-the-beacon theme is a quaint metaphor and can become trite, but your scene has a gentle touch to it and is warm and satisfying. I liked how the sisters "watched memories play short, long ago scenes in our minds." Ha, finally beat Flood in commenting about a great line. :-)
One typo I think - last paragraph: "safety of each others rooms" is possessive. Well done. Lyndon

Anonymous said...

Lovely story.

Bhaswati said...

Positive and uplifting. Despite a touch of melancholy, this story is about the spirit of hope. Nicely done :)

Unknown said...

Thanks again,

Kelly: good to hear from you again.
Hope everything is well with you and yours.

lyn: Appreciate the comments and your just too possessive (and you're right;)

sandra: That's very nice of you to say and I thank you for it.

bhaswati: Thank you very much and nice to meet you.

Anonymous said...

John, I liked the theme of splitting the lamps. Precious together, and just as precious apart.

Good marks in enjoyment and storytelling.