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Date Posted: 12:35:20 03/31/02 Sun
Author: Raphaela
Author Host/IP: webcacheB06a.cache.pol.co.uk / 195.92.168.168
Subject: Re: The Storm
In reply to: icyheart 's message, "The Storm" on 20:56:16 03/30/02 Sat

Wow! Icy this was hauntingly beautiful. Why do we always go camping when there is a storm brewing? I hope these two storm stories don't mean a tempestuous start to the short story forum - especially after the main forum was ravaged of poems!

Seriously though - this was brilliant - had me gripped from beginning to end and sent shivvers down my spine.

A tender tale, well written with enough excitement.

R


>It was a cold, All Hallows Eve, and I decided to go
>camping. The day had been partly cloudy with a gentle
>southern wind. I wanted desperately out of the house.
> I called my neighbors, asked them to watch over the
>place, told them where I would be if they happened to
>need me. With that, I proceeded to pack and leave. I
>had been having the same dream every night for weeks.
>Every night we would dance to our song. When the music
>ended she would always say, “Goodnight, my love." Even
>in death she haunted me with fiery eyes, and a
>heavenly voice. She taunted me from the grave; it was
>slowly driving me out of my mind. The love of my
>life, my lady of love, had died a year ago today. We
>never had a chance to marry.
>
>I was going to where we had planned to spend our
>honeymoon. A little cabin on the southern side of the
>Canadian Rockies overlooking the lake in the valley
>below; she had loved it there. She had her own
>private spot where she would spend hours just enjoying
>nature. Her little reverie is where she was when the
>storm hit unexpectedly, a roaring northern blast
>dropping the temperature by fifty degrees in less then
>three minutes.
>
>Raging, white powdery snow began blowing so hard that
>it was nearly impossible to see. When she had not
>returned I grew worried. It was too dangerous to
>traipse out into the blizzard, but I did it anyway. I
>did not get very far before I knew I had to turn back
>to the shelter of the cabin The search lasted for days
>before we found her lifeless body leaning against a
>tree facing the valley. She had a frozen, Brown-Eyed
>Susan in one hand, a note to me in the other. It
>read, "Honey, do not grieve for me. I died doing what
>I loved. I will be with you, in your heart, always.
>Someday we shall be together again. I will always love
>you." Beside her lay the sprawling contents of her
>backpack, a broken pencil and a partially drawn
>picture were sticking out of the snow. I left her note
>behind in a drawer at the cabin.
>
>
>Her presence loomed over me throughout the drive to
>that desolate cabin. It was as if she were sitting in
>the seat next to me, sketching the passing scenery as
>she always did on long trips. I stopped to get gas
>just below the border. When I went in to pay the man,
>he made a comment about my having a pretty wife, my
>blood ran cold, and I informed him I was alone.
>Returning to the car, I found a single Brown-Eyed
>Susan lying on the seat. I picked it up with shaky
>hands and stared in disbelief.
>
>The closer I got to the lake, the stronger her
>presence became. Finally, I pulled up to the lodge to
>get the keys. When I told the man what cabin I wanted,
>he told me it was out of service. That it had not been
>used since she and I were last in it. My eyes were
>desperately pleading. I insisted, however; he give me
>that cabin. At last, he gave in. He and his wife
>followed me up to the cabin, mumbling that they saw no
>point in my returning here. Ignoring them we continued
>down the path. He said it had not been cleaned since
>last year. I assured them it would be fine. On the way
>to cabin he noticed the flower and asked where I got
>it. When I told him the story behind it, he turned
>pale. He informed me that none of their flowers had
>bloomed this year.
>
>When we entered the cabin, we were met with deathly
>silence. It was spotless, on the table sat a vase of
>fresh flowers. I turned to him with accusing eyes, " I
>thought you said no one had been in here?" He looked
>dumbfounded, turned a glance at his wife, told me that
>it hadn't, that it had been kept locked. I nodded with
>a smile. Her presence was stronger now than before. I
>reassured them I would be ok, so they left.
>
>After unpacking, I sat down to enjoy a beer. I got
>two out of the cooler. "One for you and one for me," I
>said out loud unconsciously. Exhausted from the drive,
>I drank mine and went to bed. Again my dreams were
>haunted. This time, however, it felt so real. Dawn
>broke quickly and I awoke to a beautiful morning. Upon
>entering the living room, I glanced at the table just
>long enough to notice that the other beer had been
>drank. I tried convincing myself that I drank them but
>then I noticed the caps. One sitting on top of the
>other, bottom to bottom, just the way she always did
>it. My body felt warm, yet a chill ran through me but
>I smiled anyway. I walked out into the morning air.
>The sky was bright, with very few clouds, and a gentle
>southern breeze was blowing. It was turning into a
>picturesque sort of day so I decided to go to the
>lake. I spent the day watching the birds play in the
>air, and dip in the lake. It was getting dark by the
>time I made it back to the cabin. I felt more relaxed
>than I had in months.
>
>I got out a beer and sat on the porch swing to watch
>the moon rise. Just one more thing that she and I
>shared in our lives. In the moonbeams reflecting off
>the lake, I thought I saw her dancing. Deciding that
>it was the beer, I decided to turn in. Just as I
>entered the cabin, I heard her whisper, "Goodnight, my
>love." Startled, I turned to hear nothing more but
>the wind blowing through the trees. The next day
>started out just the same, breathtakingly beautiful. I
>decided to go up the mountain to her private spot.
>Again, I heard her calling to me in the wind. This
>time, though, it was different, almost a warning. I
>ignored it and continued on. Ignoring it still, I
>trudged on, certain I was just jumpy. Finally, I made
>it to her tree. It was desolate and bare, as if the
>nature she so adored was still mourning her death.
>
>The view was astonishing, it was almost as if you
>could see for miles. I heard her whisper frantically
>in my mind, but I could not understand the words. Then
>it came. The sky turned black, the wind began to
>howl. Memories of her came flooding back. Was this
>how it had been for her? I started back down the
>trail just as the snow hit. Over the howling winds and
>the raging snow, I heard her calling me. "Come to me,
>darling, come to me." I yelled out into the storm, "I
>can not see!" It was then that warm hands grasped my
>own. An unseen force was guiding my steps to the
>cabin below. Once safely inside, I felt lips upon
>mine, just briefly. So quickly, it could have been a
>dream. But I knew, I felt it in my heart; it was a
>kiss of pure love from an angel, my angel. Then she
>was gone. I felt her presence leave the room.
>
>
>As I was leaving the next morning, I found a note that
>read, "Honey, do not grieve for me. I died doing what
>I loved. I will be with you, in your heart, always.
>Someday we shall be together again. I will always
>love you." I left the note behind, next to the other
>note, in a drawer at the cabin. Before venturing down
>the path toward the entrance, I looked up the mountain
>and whispered, "I will be back come spring." I heard
>the whisper in the wind that said, "I will be waiting."
>
>© IcyHeart
>10-17-01

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