Eternal Home

April 11, 2012
By Raelyn Francis BRONZE, Wabash, Indiana
Raelyn Francis BRONZE, Wabash, Indiana
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The click click of the waitress’s pink high heels ring through the empty little dinner. Watching her walk away the elderly woman wearing all black sips her coffee. The familiar smells of fried food and cigarette smoke bring back wonderful memories. She remembers the red plush booths full of teenagers talking and laughing over their milkshakes and fries. The place is loud, full of people and energy. Much the opposite of what it is now. Only a few regulars and the annoyed waitress, her bright red lipstick marking the end of her cigarette, smoke pluming above her. Ignoring the waitresses, she goes back to the past, it was better there. The possibilities of a Friday night were endless. She remembers her younger self beautiful and headstrong. Her long golden locks, all the girls in town envied. Yet none could hate her because her personality always shone brighter than her beauty. That night she wasn’t expecting more than a normal night of cruising, socializing and listening to music. She’d started to feel wary of this town and its predictability. She sat in the red booth staring into space, board and sipping her milkshake. Then he walked in. Instantly her curiosity kicked in. She’d never seen him before. He walked confident in his leather jacket and converse shoes, brown hair gelled messily. He looks around then his blue eyes meet hers. They held her gaze, until she forces herself to look away, scared of the nervous butterfly’s erupting in her tummy. That night wasn’t the same as every other night in that small town. It was the night she fell in love with the love of her life. In the present a sad smile comes to her wrinkled face. She stares into her black coffee, breathing in the comforting smell. Bringing back another memory of her waking up to the scent of brewing coffee filling up the little apartment they’d bought in the city. She walks barefooted, wrapped only in sheets, to the kitchen where she is surprised to find him kneeling on the floor with rose petals all over, a velvet box in his hand and a nervous smile on his face. The memory sends a tear sliding down her cheek. It rolls over her wrinkles born from years of laughter and worries. It lands in the lap of her black dress. She will miss him dearly, but she is happy to have been blessed with 64 years of the greatest love she’s ever known. She leaves the small town dinner where they first meet, certain that soon they will meet again, and he will be waiting there for her in their eternal home.

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