Emma brought her coffee to the livingroom, turned on the old stereo and carefully placed the needle down on the LP. Her heart rose with the violins as the music began to play. The Autumn leaves...
She drifted to the window and looked out at the old sycamore, bent and reaching toward the sky in all directions, crowned with gold, amber, crimson, russet and topaz. A gust of wind came up, rattled the window and danced the fallen leaves across the lawn. The music continued to play and rose the flesh on Emma’s arms. And it took her back to him and them and all their many years. David’s eyes were blue and bright in the sun that he loved, his black hair shone like an obsidian miracle always wore an impish smile that teased out of tanned face. Happy to pull at weeds and coax the lawn to grow, which never did no matter how many tools or potions he took to it.
Emma put her hand to the window, as though David’s was there on the other side, touching back. Reassuring her that he was there and all was well. And the ghost of him smiled for an instant before the wind rose up again and shimmied the sycamore into involuntary trembles.
The music ended and Emma went again and placed the needle carefully down to bring back the music and loosen the squeeze in her chest. David held her in his arms and they danced in the dark, the music leading them, love guiding them. And he tugged at her hair and smacked her behind and they laughed. They argued politics and secretly read each other’s books. When Katie came along it made them a family, bonding them in ways they could never fathom before her entrance into their lives.
“Don’t give your child beer, you mad man!” Emma chided.
David shrugged. “A little taste won’t hurt her.”
The little house on Manhattan Street with the blue shutters and screen door that never closed properly no matter how many times David wielded his toolbelt. The old oak table they found at the side of the road and worked weeks sanding it, smoothing it, rubbing oil into it. This house they were so proud to buy, to nurture to fix up with paint and nails, new windows and rosebushes.
Every moment they spent, every adventure, every tear, every joy they had, stood with her at the window and watched the Autumn leaves swirl as the music played.
You and Christine are really wonderful writers. Annie, this is beautiful!
Hi Bella,
Thanks so much. I love the song Autumn Leaves and played it the whole time I was writing the piece.
Annie
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Another wonderful Friday post Annie. Thank you π
Hey Gem,
We’re getting to be a regular thing on Fridays, eh? Glad you liked it.
Annie π
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Wow,I have goosebumps. This made me feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside. I love, love, love autumn.
And I love your Friday posts.
Have a great one, Kim
Hey there Ms. Friend!
Thank you for that. I had no idea you loved the Friday posts, that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. What did you think of adding the song to the post? Too much? Or did it work?
Love
Annie
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This is beautiful. The music, the image, your words. LOVE IT.
Thanks, C – sometimes I wonder where this stuff comes from. π
Annie
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I saw that play out..and it was sad and beautiful all in one.
Thanks, Panther. Do you think it was too predictable then?
Annie
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You got nothin’ yesterday but you got somethin’ today.
I can hear that song in my head. I know it so well. I just listened to a Jo Stafford version of it probably from the 50’s. I love the Johnny Mathis version too.
I can just imagine Emma by the window listening to that song thinking of David. Very vivid imagery.
I loved it, Annie!!
Hugs and Jugs
Joanie
Hi Joanie,
I remember that song – actually my favorite version is by Natalie Cole but I thought the original was more befitting to the piece. If you imagined yourself at the window with her, then I guess I did my job. Thanks dear. π
Annie
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you paint a very vivid picture!
Thank you, Clancy. Good to see you here again.
Annie
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What a wonderful picture of love and memories. I love the autumn season. It seems to clear the mind and bring peace to heart. I enjoyed it immensely.
Hi Jim
Thanks for reading, I’m glad you enjoyed the piece. Yes, Autumn can be very cleansing, can’t it?
WC
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And the Autumn leaves swirl as the music played. Your story again is so beautiful. I love romance, romantic words, romantic songs romantic thoughts.
Romantic
Love
Di
Thank -you Annie.
Thanks Di – I love romance too. There is precious little in the world sometimes too, isn’t there?
Love
Annie
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and I love old romantic songs.
Theme Fridays burst into song. Lovely.
Me too – I was so glad I was able to find the mp3 of that song. It’s a honey, isn’t it?
Love
Annie
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This was a sad and romantic piece.
i think it’s cool-strange that both of our posts had the beauty of autumn knitted with loss.
Beauty and loss often go together…
You did a wonderful job demonstrating that.
And you were worried-
i never worry about your posts. i always trust that your work will be excellent. And it always is. π
Aw Chica,
You are a good friend and so good for my ego. Thanks. Yes, Autumn can be tied in with the beauty of loss because it is shedding what summer grew. But what a blaze of glory it goes down in, eh?
Annie
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NO! I meant that I could *see* her remembering and I could *see* her remembrances. Sorry, not as in, I could predict where it was going.
Oh okay. No worries. I wasn’t offended or anything, it was just one of those writer questions we sometimes ask. To be honest I wasn’t completely satisfied with the piece and I’m still trying to figure out why, so when you said that I thought ‘maybe that’s it’ – know what I mean? π
Annie
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I love your Friday posts Annie – to be able to take an idea like this and weave it into a post, and such a moving post as this, I envy you that talent. Sorry I didn’t say more in my first comment, I was still struck by the wonder, love and aching in the post. You have such a wonderful way with words.
Hi Gem,
Wow, that was a wonderful comment and I thank you for it. Fridays are special for us as well, we are really trying to challenge ourselves and hopefully find stuff we wouldn’t otherwise find without the prompt. Hopefully, it’s working. Thank again, Gem, such a lovely comment.
Annie
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a heart-rendering story, annie. i’m right there
inside this woman’s remembrance of a family
once inside her home, you manage to write love
in each line. brava.
Hi Jade! You make such lovely comments, thank you. I actually wanted to take the piece longer – but for some reason it seemed to end right there, I didn’t want anything to disturb Emma and her memories, by bringing in another character – so it came up a bit short. But maybe that’s as it should be.
Thanks for reading and your input, I appreciate it so much.
Annie
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Beautifully written. I enjoyed reading it!
Thanks, Mrs. V. I enjoyed writing it. Well, actually I really enjoyed it when I was through writing it. π
Annie
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No, I felt the song flowed perfectly with the rhythm of the piece. So retro, like a glass of nostalgia. It fit. I liked it.
Good job. You’re like almost a techie now….
π
kim
Me, a techie, eh? Not sure that will ever be true. I just lucked out that I found a site that let me get the mp3 by cutting and pasting some code. I’m glad you liked the effect though. Unfortunately, I had to remove it because every time I came to the page it started playing and it started to drive me nuts. My bad. Thanks, Kim.
Annie
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