Hi Dear, I'm Back - CAW11 - Rated G

[Distant Lover]

Ellen walked through the fog along an empty street lined with deserted nineteenth century townhouses. She was walking to visit her husband. He was interred in the family mausoleum in the cemetery up ahead. The family had been rich and prominent during the nineteenth century. Ellen’s husband had been the remaining heir, when there was nothing left to inherit.

Several blocks down the street was the ornate and open gate of the cemetery, which had been founded during the eighteenth century. Tombstones, mausoleums, and statues disappeared into the fog.

The mausoleum that contained the body of Ellen’s husband was in a hill overlooking the red brick church, built before the American Revolution.

When Ellen reached the mausoleum she looked into the barred door at the placard that read, “John Morton 1961 – 1991.”

“Hi, Dear.” She said. “I’m back.”

Ellen continued, “The leaves have fallen from the trees. There is a thick fog, but it is not very chilly.

“The trees you planted around our house have grown taller than the roof. They shade our house in the summer, and help to keep it cool, as you planned. When our son Bill was a boy he liked to climb in those trees. I was afraid he would fall, but he never did.

“Bill was easy to raise, even without you. He was always a good boy. But you did help. I have your photograph on the mantel. When I told Bill, ‘Your father would not want you to do that,' he did not do it.

“Bill looked so handsome in his tuxedo for the prom. He took Mary Davis. She was born to Jack and Edith Davis. They still go to our church. Mary looked beautiful in her prom dress. I was so proud when Bill graduated from high school.

“Very few Americans died in the Gulf War. I don’t know why God took you away from me, but it happened.

“I have a co-worker named ‘Ted’. He also goes to our church. I have had lunch with him several times at work. I was afraid he would ask me for a date, because I did not want to hurt his feelings. He did. I hurt his feelings by turning him down. He wants to find a woman to be a mother for his children.

“You know me, Dear. I can only fall in love once. The first day of the ninth grade, when I saw you for the first time in our Civics class I knew I wanted to marry you. I had never been on a date yet, but I wanted to marry you. Our first date was my first date. High school was wonderful with you as my boy friend.

“Two months ago Bill came back from Afghanistan. He looked so handsome in his uniform, just like you did. I was so proud to introduce him to the people at church. I still hoped he might marry the Davis girl.

“Then he went back to Afghanistan. It really hurt when they told me he had been killed, but he died bravely, like you did. But you know this, because he is with you now.”

Ellen opened her purse, got a handkerchief, and dabbed her eyes.

“Goodbye Dear,” she told her husband. “I will be back. I need to leave now, before they lock the cemetery.” She left as the attendants began to close and lock the gate. Then she walked alone along the dark and empty street through the fog to the train station.

[ELaken-Palmer]

A good read and it brought forth the challenge photo in the very first paragraph.

[Daddycums]

Way too sad for my tastes, but beautifully written nonetheless. Your technique of writing nearly the whole story as a monologue works well; it helps us to really feel this woman's pain and sorrow. Good luck in the CAW!

[Cheltenham]

I enjoyed reading. You have talent DL. Keep on writing if the desire to is there.

+

[Hardrive]

Good story DL. You told your story very well but like my girlfriend said, after our 3rd date..... "too bad it's so short."

But don't worry, I knew how to respond to that. I said, "it's long enough to do the job." Nine months later I was proved right.

Good luck with your story old friend.

HD

[Hornycountryboy]

Well that was definitely different, very emotional, nearly had me shedding a tear. There was so much more you could have written, but I don't think it would have made it more emotional or not. So I believe you ended right where it needed to. Very well done, and good luck.

[UKM40]

Damn did not expect to find such an emotional tale on a porn site.
I do not know what else to say except very unexpected and very moving.

[ejls]

I was afraid it would end with her son dying. This was a very emotional and well-written piece. As others have said, you could have made this longer, remembering their courtship, the happiness of their wedding, the birth of their child. But you didn't need to do that in order to stir up the emotions in us. This was a welcomed addition to the CAW.

[Distant Lover]

Originally Posted by ejls

I was afraid it would end with her son dying. This was a very emotional and well-written piece. As others have said, you could have made this longer, remembering their courtship, the happiness of their wedding, the birth of their child. But you didn't need to do that in order to stir up the emotions in us. This was a welcomed addition to the CAW.

Those are all good ideas. I wanted to write it longer. I wish I had talked to you before I posted my story.

[Hardrive]

Originally Posted by Distant Lover

Those are all good ideas. I wanted to write it longer. I wish I had talked to you before I posted my story.

Yes, I think ejls could have helped you make it longer. I've never met the lady but I'm sure she could do the job.

I'm talking about the story.... I am..... I swear I am.

HD

[ahorsewithnoname]

I thoroughly enjoyed this story. It almost read like a diary entry or a sad letter home. Very touching. If just for fun, might be nice to rewrite and expand upon it. I think you have the talent to do so.

[ejls]

bump

[Wee Hector]

bump

[Twistedsister]

Pound

[wantsomefun]

First reaction: Is that all he wrote? I was just getting into it!

Second reaction: Could you have improved this by making it longer? I'm not at all sure you could, frankly. You allowed the photo to do much of the job of describing the physical setting of your story, and it also suggested and then augmented the mood, which made the need for words far less. If we graded solely on the basis of adherence to the pic, you win, hands down.

Sure, I could see a LOT more possibilities with this story, as ejls and others have said. I think it might have been nice to actually meet their son and to see the grieving widow's face smile at him and his girlfriend. It may have been instructive to have her talk about herself a little more, to tell us why men still find her attractive through her tears. But you didn't need to do any of that to create a story that went straight to the heart.

Very, very nice.

[blueheatt]

bug lump=bump...lol Well written

[darthel0101]

Well written; good, quick read.

[ejls]

[Twistedsister]

BUMP RUB LICK SUCK SWALLOW

[Hornycountryboy]

Bump

[Hornycountryboy]

Bump

[ahorsewithnoname]

bump

[ahorsewithnoname]

motherfucking bump to get these stories to the top and JoeFuckheadDirty (and his little troll pornvision) below

[Wee Hector]

bump

[Hornycountryboy]

All aboard the bump train! Choo choo!

[Dizzyworks673]

Going for a ride on the crazy bump train!

[DoyleGentry]

bump

[darthel0101]

bump

[Dizzyworks673]

Bump

[Dizzyworks673]

bump

[curiousscouser]

Such a touching story. Yes, it is a little short and could have been expanded in a few ways, but there's no feeling of unfinished business at the end of it - to me it stands as a complete story exactly as it is.

Well done DL, and good luck in the challenge.

[Dizzyworks673]

Bump

[ahorsewithnoname]

Last weekend of voting bump!

[Distant Lover]

Note: What follows is probably too late to be an entry in the contest. Nevertheless, a few people asked me to extend the story, so I did.

[Distant Lover]

Ellen walked through the fog along an empty street lined with deserted nineteenth century townhouses. She was walking to visit her husband. He was interred in the family mausoleum in the cemetery up ahead. The family had been rich and prominent during the nineteenth century. Ellen’s husband had been the remaining heir, when there was nothing left to inherit.

Several blocks down the street was the ornate and open gate of the cemetery, which had been founded during the eighteenth century. Tombstones, mausoleums, and statues disappeared into the fog.

The mausoleum that contained the body of Ellen’s husband was in a hill overlooking the red brick church, built before the American Revolution. The mausoleum was also built of red brick. It had a cross leading up from the roof, as though it was a small chapel. A mausoleum symbolizes a family that was at one time financially and socially prominent.

When Ellen reached the mausoleum she looked into the barred door at the placard that read, “John Morton 1961 – 1991.”

“Hi, Dear.” She said. “I’m back.”

Ellen continued, “The leaves have fallen from the trees. There is a thick fog, but it is not very chilly.

“The trees you planted around our house have grown taller than the roof. They shade our house in the summer, and help to keep it cool, as you planned. When our son Bill was a boy he liked to climb in those trees. I was afraid he would fall, but he never did.

“Bill was easy to raise, even without you. He was always a good boy. But you did help. I have your photograph on the mantel. When I told Bill, ‘Your father would not want you to do that,' he did not do it.

“Once I was talking to a friend of mine who asked plaintively, ‘How did you keep Bill from staying out late? How did you keep him from getting into trouble in school?’

“I had to tell her, ‘I never had to tell him not to do those things because he never wanted to.’

“Bill was not the brilliant student you may have preferred, Dear, but he got reasonably good grades. He got along well with his teachers. He had a good sense of humor. I never had to pick him up at the police station, or anything like that. You would have been proud of him, Dear.

“He went out for a few school sports. When he did not make the teams I bought him a weight set. He worked out at home and became pretty muscular.

“Bill looked so handsome in his tuxedo for the prom. He took Mary Davis. She was born to Jack and Edith Davis. They still go to our church. Mary looked beautiful in her prom dress. I was so proud when Bill graduated from high school.

“You can be sure that Bill had her home at a decent hour. When he came home there was no alcohol on his breath. He drank wine and beer now and then at home, but he was never part of the drinking crowd at school.

“Very few Americans died in the Gulf War. I don’t know why God took you away from me, but it happened.

“I have a co-worker named ‘Ted’. He goes to our church. I have had lunch with him several times at work. There is an Italian restaurant near to where we work. You would like it. It is owned by an Italian family I like to talk to. Having lunch there with Ted did not feel like a date.

I was afraid he would ask me for a date, because I did not want to hurt his feelings. He did. I hurt his feelings by turning him down. He wants to find a woman to be a mother for his children. Ted is a good man. He would make some woman very happy.

“You know me, Dear. I can only fall in love once. The first day of the ninth grade, when I saw you for the first time in our Civics class I knew I wanted to marry you. I had never been on a date yet, but I wanted to marry you. Our first date was my first date. High school was wonderful with you as my boy friend.

“Do you remember our first date? I sure do. We went to see Ingmar Bergman’s ‘The Magic Flute.’ I was proud that you chose that movie. You knew I love classical music. It felt so sophisticated to see a foreign movie.

“I’m glad we did not go to a restaurant for dinner. We were both so shy we couldn’t think of anything to say to each other. Conversations got easier after that. Still, it was a long time before you held my hand and kissed me goodnight. I wanted you to do that earlier, but it meant that you respected me, and I appreciated that.

“Our senior prom was the happiest time for me in high school. I know it was for you. too.

“Then you joined the Army, and we traveled around the world, before settling down where I live now. Bill always wanted to join the Army like you did.

“Two months ago Bill came back from Afghanistan. He looked so handsome in his uniform, just like you did. I was so proud to introduce him to the people at church. I still hoped he might marry the Davis girl.

“Then he went back to Afghanistan. It really hurt when they told me he had been killed, but he died bravely, like you did. But you know this, because he is with you now.”

Ellen opened her purse, got a handkerchief, and dabbed her eyes.

“Goodbye Dear,” she told her husband. “I will be back. I need to leave now, before they lock the cemetery.” She left as the attendants began to close and lock the gate. Then she walked alone along the dark and empty street through the fog to the train station.

[Hornycountryboy]

One last push!

[Distant Lover]

This story was inspired by the following photograph:

[ninjapunch]

Wow great story. A bit sad but it hits close to home for me.

[Shadow_Wolf]

Good story