History: http://www.mooncalfstudios.com/pathofth ... f=13&t=531
‘Ding’ ‘Dong’ the bell tolled upon the town church. ‘Ding’ ‘Ding’ ‘Dong’
A mans head hung low, showing bald shiny skin to the front of the dimly lit room as he sat in his gray and black petticoat. Next to him a women, all rosy smiles with a white handkerchief crumpled between her palms. Tiny fingers rested upon the row before them. The pair sat center of the room and blended in with the crowd of others in similar fashion. Focused on them; the lead vocalists’ large blue eyes twinkled, restraining sad tears. Concentration was a key role to force the diaphragm strong allowing agile and smooth notes to escape beyond her tender emotions urging to crack. Damaged. Her heart beat faster then she could breathe every once in a while but the music kept her composure in tact. Returning to the rightful duty she had to uphold. Appearing relaxed in form, the women stood center just before the rows of red and white smocks and swayed with them. Her mezzo-soprano voice protruded inside the small building as the choir joined in off and on in harmony, while the organist played the beautiful song. Her mother’s melody 'I shall believe’ was supple, heartbreaking and loving at the same time. Voices of the men and women hummed in a low tempo while Temperance lifted the lyrics from her lips, focusing once more on the friendly aging couple. One day, they may find themselves sharing the same fate as her mother; now resting in the well-decorated casket before the choir after living a full and wondrous life.
At songs end the priest spoke one more prayer of thanks before dismissing everyone to their respective daily duties. Shuffling feet, coats and kids voices paraded through the aisles of the small church as families followed the red carpet to the doors. Temperance stayed behind starring quietly across the room, waiting for the last lingering attendee to leave and watched the funeral director guide the coffin out to be burned.
While silently wishing one final goodbye, a voice spoke over her shoulder, “Was he here?”
Bringing her own palm to his fingers now resting upon her shoulder, the woman squeeze them, “No, Uncle. My father is out to sea again and shall not return for another month or so.”
“Pity.” He responded.
“Yes,” Temperance softly laughed and shook off the sudden interruption. “He loved her dearly though, as stubborn as the two of them were.”
Picking herself up from the chair she turned, wrapped her arms around the man in a tight hug then stood back resting her palms on his arms. “Let’s go home.”
As always, Temperance spent a few minutes tidying up the place for her uncle as in his old age it was the least she could do. Wiping each wooden pew down, she hummed the same song once more, low and light. Reaching the final seat, she tucked away the rags, snuffed any remaining candles and said a small prayer before taking her leave.
In the first few steps outside the season’s cold air brushed against her face. Breathing shallow to not swallow the crisp cool spring morning that would scar her lungs, Temperance tucked deeper into her coat for warmth against the breeze. Slowing her pace her eyes gazed beyond the cemetery fence to the very tree she would bury her mother’s ashes. The smell of pine still lingered in her brunette locks from the service and lifted into the air around her. It reminded the women of how her mother dressed up the house at Thanksgiving with a mixture of autumn pumpkins and fresh pine boughs from the tree behind the house. After dinner the two would decorate an old fake tree with twinkle lights and sip hot cider. The small home remained cozy till the New year and even more so since father was home.
Shuffling in her heels, Temperance turned and pressed her back against the metal fence. Looking to the bright overcast clouds as little droplets of rain began to fall upon her cheeks. Her father was out at sea again. His higher rank in the Navy allowed him to be home for months at one time, but occasionally he spent months away. She rarely saw him since reaching adulthood, which made Christmas even more special this year. Distance kept them from conversing too much and they remained focused on current events, neighborhood stories, spectacular old ships and her voluntary position at the church. It was tough, as he was stubborn. Occasionally, her father would come hear her sing and listen to his brother’s sermon. Although the man would never admit he was sitting left of the church in direct view of the choir. Temperance loved him still.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She woke suddenly from a solid sleep. A fragile wrist and fingers brushed a bead of sweat from her brow. Her heart shaken and stomach rumbled. Hazel hues relaxed from their squinted state as she pushed herself to a seated position. Her legs swung effortlessly across the side of the double bed. It only took a few moments for her to focus and shake off the coma like sleep. Her bare feet pressed lightly across the floorboards of the small cottage home. They gave a sharp creek and felt cold to the touch. Thin fabric of a silk baby blue nightgown gently swayed against her calves. Her toes skimmed past a streak of sunshine that peeked through the crevice of the room darkening shades. Little bits of dust floated among the light. Behind her a dusty foot path from the bedroom door. A door creaked loudly as Temperance opened the cupboard and retrieved a tall drinking glass, she than moved to the sink. The tap spit and sputtered amber liquid only briefly before running clear. She filled her glass to the brim with room temperature water and swallowed twelve ounces without a pause. The cup placed then onto the counter with a slight echo. Her palms rested to the metal rimmed counter-top as if to brace herself and she drew in a deep breath, than a second deeper still as if to ensure she was still breathing. It was a horrific dream...
