Happy Monday! I hope everyone had an excellent weekend. It was nice and quiet here actually. A nice holiday at home. While family was missed, it was really nice not to have to travel. And to have a few quiet days to sleep in. But now we begin the rush to the new year. So many things to get done before the calendar page flips. But let’s start with this morning’s writing prompt, then see where the day takes us, shall we? Excellent. Timers at the ready and start.
Well that sort of woke my brain up a bit. Curious little story bit. Could be fun to work with. And not all together terrible for a monday morning.
Quick reminder: Smashword’s year end sale is still going on from now until January 1st. Its the perfect time to stock up on books for the new year.
Monday, December 28th: Clearly, that solved nothing.
“Clearly, that solved nothing,” he said.
There was a sneer in his voice and I tried not to frown as I stared at the wall. Fragments of pottery now decorated the ground as I hurled anything within my reach at the flat surface. Unfortunately for the dishware it was mostly old plates. A part of me was satisfied with the destruction, feeling that at least some of my feelings were relieved merely by an act of force. The rest of me was upset I destroyed the everyday dishes rather than the good china.
I wondered if he’d be so calm, so blasé about my temper tantrum if I had taken out the good china. I knew he valued it, more as a status symbol than anything else. His mismatched second hand purchases were good enough for everyday use but could never be shown to company. I always thought he was rather embarrassed by them.
‘Perhaps I did him a favor.’ The thought did not sit well. My breath slowly calmed, my chest stopped heaving. He always knew how to get to me, even after all of these years and god knows how many miles of separation. I hadn’t been in the same room with him in thirty years and yet ten minutes in the same space, we fell back into the same patterns we always used.
As my breath resumed its normal pace, I risked a glance towards him. I felt a glint of satisfaction that despite his dismissive demeanor, he placed himself between me and the good china cabinet. I kept my face calm but allowed myself an inner snort of amusement. I kept turning until I faced the door.
Seeing no real reason to stay I started walking. I heard a hefty sigh behind me. I didn’t stop, didn’t turn.
“You know we will still have to deal with this,” he said. His calm tone was now edged with exasperation. I knew from experience that he practiced the tone in his study when he thought no one was looking. I didn’t bother answering him. I just kept walking. I remember a long ago friend seeing me off when I finally left the smothering embrace of the family.
“You can’t outrun your past,” he warned me as I boarded the train on that long ago day. “One day you will have to deal with them.”
I didn’t heed the warning then. In fact I forgot the words, dismissed them in the steam hissing from the engines. They were white noise. I was never coming back. I would never have to deal with him.
Ambrose was long gone now, his life swallowed up by war as were so many others. The fact that I survived came as something of a mystery to me. He was not here to see his prediction come true. Admittedly he had never been the sort to gloat. My brother called after me, his tones increasingly petulant. There was an edge of worry to them. A note of desperation. It almost cause me to turn. Almost. The urge to smash was still very much within me. I destroyed the crockery because I needed to turn the violence to inanimate things. If I ever started in on a person, especially now, especially here, I didn’t know if I would be able to stop. There was such a rage within me. Perhaps it had always been there. Perhaps it lay dormant until the match lit the fuse.
Ten til Midnight 