lilacs in bucket

lilacs in bucket

Sunday, November 1, 2009

A Work in Progress


Here is a short bit from the MIP:

Jeanne’s discovery that spring left her feeling sad, futile. Why didn’t I see this before? She would come to ask herself the same question over and over again. Who is responsible?
For, just beyond the stone wall, the wall that divided her lawn from the woods beyond, Jeanne discovered a macabre and sad secret.
So tender it was and so unfortunate.
“Why would anyone leave it this way?” she wondered aloud.
In chasing after Jack, the new dog, having lost her old dog, Mallory, to some sort of cancer, Jeanne stumbled upon a tiny alcove of sorts just beyond the stone wall, built of stone, nearly the same stone as the wall itself and inside a tiny cavern, Jeanne discovered some sort of truth.
She drew her breath in sharply. “Jack! Jack!” she shouted. Finally, the black lab responded, only to nudge her arm with his nose. “Stay here,” she ordered, although she knew he didn’t understand and could care less. Such a free, uninhibited spirit. No, more like untrained dog. A brat dog. Jeanne shrugged and turned back to the stone shrine and looked again. Jack decided to lie down in the half-frozen grass beside her, panting, eyes fixated on her and what she might be doing. Would it prove interesting, that was all he cared about.
Jeanne drew the old, dead hay aside, the hay that covered the entrance to the hole in which lay a wrapping of some kind. She drew it forth and laid it in her lap. So small, so fragile, what could it be? She drew the cloth apart and shrieked. The contents fell from her lap to the ground.
“Oh my God!”

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