It was during the particularly hot August of 1964 that Margaret left her husband for another man.
The oppressive, humid heat of the small college-town in West Virginia in the late summer made the usual daily life seem blurry and utterly dream-like. For this reason, Charles knew she was gone but didn’t really believe it; the blank space (almost like a black hole, sucking in bad thoughts and memories to give him a kind of illusioned, pure nostalgia) where she used to be was bathed with white and a suggestive question mark. He had made the subconscious decision to was to clumsily fill the void with alcohol and cigarettes.
On this afternoon, he was setting flame to an excess of time by sitting on the conservative porch of his empty house in a worn rocking chair, one that had been in his family for the longest time, …show more content…
Not one. For this moment or days afterwards.
Her eyes, from that distance point on the horizon, looked at him, sized him up like a stranger.
He wanted to feel the relief and dissatisfaction of her forgiveness, of her quiet apology that would stand out, so alienated from the rest of her. He wanted to feel this things breathe out like the last sigh of the Atlantic, like river Lythe’s last apology sent out in waves, rolling away from the center and outward, instead of the tide of her gentleness always receding inwards.
Despite his deepest desires and wishes, all he received was a slashing last sentence, a goodbye in the sense of the phrase, the kind that hung and reverberated through his head like the muddled clarity of solemn funeral bells.
“It’s all your fault, you know.” Margaret’s voice was eerily clear and absolutely striking.
It was in that second that Charles realized she was never his, not really. Not that she was a free spirit, no, more like a precious gift from gods held in high esteem, up on a pedestal above all men.
And Charles was simply that--just a man.
How could he hate her when he was the one who wronged
The oppressive, humid heat of the small college-town in West Virginia in the late summer made the usual daily life seem blurry and utterly dream-like. For this reason, Charles knew she was gone but didn’t really believe it; the blank space (almost like a black hole, sucking in bad thoughts and memories to give him a kind of illusioned, pure nostalgia) where she used to be was bathed with white and a suggestive question mark. He had made the subconscious decision to was to clumsily fill the void with alcohol and cigarettes.
On this afternoon, he was setting flame to an excess of time by sitting on the conservative porch of his empty house in a worn rocking chair, one that had been in his family for the longest time, …show more content…
Not one. For this moment or days afterwards.
Her eyes, from that distance point on the horizon, looked at him, sized him up like a stranger.
He wanted to feel the relief and dissatisfaction of her forgiveness, of her quiet apology that would stand out, so alienated from the rest of her. He wanted to feel this things breathe out like the last sigh of the Atlantic, like river Lythe’s last apology sent out in waves, rolling away from the center and outward, instead of the tide of her gentleness always receding inwards.
Despite his deepest desires and wishes, all he received was a slashing last sentence, a goodbye in the sense of the phrase, the kind that hung and reverberated through his head like the muddled clarity of solemn funeral bells.
“It’s all your fault, you know.” Margaret’s voice was eerily clear and absolutely striking.
It was in that second that Charles realized she was never his, not really. Not that she was a free spirit, no, more like a precious gift from gods held in high esteem, up on a pedestal above all men.
And Charles was simply that--just a man.
How could he hate her when he was the one who wronged