This post is my submission for the current
Tenth Daughter of Memory topic, which is 'Moon'.
It is also chapter seven of the novel I am writing for
NanNoWriMo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back in his kitchen, Jake tossed the photo down on the table and walked over to the refrigerator. Had he not been so upset, he would have laughed at how cliche the contents of the appliance were.
Inside the door stood a bottle of ketchup, a bottle of mustard and a small glass jar of relish, all cheap, store brand items. Jake couldn't recall the last time he had touched one of them.
Beer made up the majority of items in the rest of the fridge. Two six-packs of the only brand he drank took up the entire top shelf. Below, a small tub of margarine and half a loaf of bread. Below that, a container from the Chinese place. He couldn't recall what was in it or when he had shoved it in here.
Next to it was a bottle of wine, laying on its side.
His eyes stayed on the wine as his hand reached for a beer. Sara had bought it and he could never bring himself to drink it. In fact, he had never even touched it. He let it lay, unopened, undisturbed, aging slowly, waiting.
With a beer in hand, he shut the door.
After using the edge of the counter to knock the cap off the bottle, he turned back to the small table. The sight of the picture he had dropped brought up the anger he had come home with, so instead he walked to the back door and out into the night.
A small set of five stairs led from the door to the walkway in his back yard. He sat on the top step and took a sip. The beer was cold and made him realize how unseasonably warm the air out here was. Much warmer than an early November night ought to be, he thought. Looking into the small yard, he realized it was much brighter than it should be, too.
He could barely make out the grass, which he knew needed mowing. The fallen leaves had covered almost the entire yard. He hadn't thought about raking them up. He mentally added them to his chore list, but wondered if they would still be here come Spring.
Further back, where Sara's old vegetable garden had been, tall weeds stood, dry and dying. They looked odd, he thought, creepy. He turned his gaze slowly upward, searching for the source of this midnight light.
He found it quickly, hovering above the skeletal trees, watching him. The moon, round and full and remarkably huge, with an orange glow that reminded Jake of fire. He sat, sipping his beer, staring at the moon as it stared back.
For so long he had felt alone.
His mother, his friends... They all meant well, but they really didn't understand what he was going through. He had taken to acting when he was with them, to play a role instead of just being himself. Always feeling more alone after spending time with any of them than he did before.
So, he avoided them.
And Gramps was gone. Until Sara came along, Gramps was the one person Jake could talk to, about anything. And even after Sara, he was the only one Jake could talk to about certain things. But Gramps was gone, and Jake still didn't know how to feel about his disappearance from his life.
And then there was Sara. Damn, how he missed her. The guilt rose up inside him, so he sipped the beer to quell it. It didn't help.
He looked up at the moon again. It just hung there, silently watching him. And for a moment, Jake didn't feel so alone.
Then a breeze picked up, causing the dry leaves to dance around the yard. There was a chill in the with the wind, a gentle reminder that this was November, after all.
Jake stood and, holding his beer out in front of him, looked up at the moon once more.
"Thanks for listening." he said. tipping the bottle a bit. Then he downed what was left and placed the empty bottle along the porch ledge, lining it up with all the others.
He stepped back in to his empty home. Alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For more Tenth Daughter of Memory posts, click here --->
MoonFor my page at the NaNoWriMo site, click here --->
Wings1295~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
