My Dearest Piper

This is a small small segment from my book titled “…This Side of Happiness.” More specifically, this post is an excerpt from a short story titled My Dearest Piper. This tale is about a widow grieving the loss of her husband. This tragedy is reviled right in the beginning of the story. “…This Side of Happiness” is a collection of short stories. The common theme running through out the book is love. It takes on a few different forms across the six stories in the book.

As always, book (and a few other great short stories) are available on the Kindle Store and Amazon, as a hard copy. Please, leave comments and thoughts. Thank you.

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Day 75

My Beloved Piper,

Of all the smells I ever had the pleasure of inhaling, the most intriguing was always the kind that followed a hard night’s rain. This genuinely unique smell possess a calming property that was always able to relax me and settle my nerves down. The rain had a similar affect if I were to stand in it and let it soak into my clothes. Everything felt better and I felt more in control when I was encased in this pretend shield by the rain. The calamity and beauty of the tiniest details seemed to highlight themselves when the clouds shed their tears. Tossing the impending embarrassment beside, I’ll admit that the trivial points in life are the ones that lifted my heart and let my eyes mourn the natural attraction that accompanies the connection we share.

It seems so funny that something simple can jog your memory and remind you about the uncommon elegance that lies within someone. From an arrangement of chords being struck on by a guitarist to the gentle hum of an old car, I always found it to be the small things that resurrected forgotten memories. Some may lock onto this shimmering cloud of cheerful qualities that decorate one’s face. Another might notice a specific dress or style. In my case, my heart was always enchanted by an engaging conversation concealed behind an alluring smile. And once my mind established you were the owner of a massively gorgeous intellect, my heart’s string tied themselves into impossibly tight knot.

The photographs from the day we cashed our cards in and joined hands is forever stitched onto my mind’s eye. The colors and atmosphere from that glorious day still smolder with a sun like intensity. The feelings you gave me still boil deep inside my being. The lust and yearning you breathe infected me from the moment we traded names to the day we signed our family into reality. The vigorous emotions that controlled my chest and enslaved my bones have permanently braided my heartstrings. And yes, they are still knotted by your love and grace.

I promise I will be home soon. Things are improving much more quickly than we thought. xoxo

With Endless Love,

Shaun

Tears seeped through Piper’s eyes as she finished Shaun’s final letter. It was the last thing had from him. The last bit of reassurance and love. They last words that she had to draw strength from. She knew it had been a few weeks since she had received it, but she chose to remain hopeful. And now, after the Marine came by…a tiny ping of doubt bloomed in her heart. A tiny seed that could blossom into an immense infection of pain, misery and doubt. And despite her courage and attempts to root out the negative and evil thoughts, she could feel the last ounces of strength growing increasingly weak.
The day of Shaun’s funeral marked the official end to everything Piper knew and held dear. Once the viewings and service had occurred, Piper found herself standing in the cemetery. Others and herself flanked a flag draped coffin that stood beside a recently dug grave. The sound of rifles discharging had brought her out of her dazed state. The service had been a hurricane of tears and waves of renewed heartbreak. Each word the preacher spoke stabbed into Piper’s heart with precision and purpose. Each picture and every song lyric dug a bloody hole into Piper’s body.  As Shaun’s friend recited their memories the water works began to dry up. With each word they spoke she found her strength fading a little bit more. And she felt her love for Shaun edge toward a misdirected form of anger as the rifles shouted their goodbyes.

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