The triple treatment can be miraculous.
The phrase and look of uncertainty written across her face consumed his thoughts. It wasn’t until Patrick arrived home did he realize:
Sister Bernadette’s symptoms could worsen and those were my final words to her.
Patrick thought about consulting on her case to ensure she wasn’t slipping away from him. But the idea came when Timothy asked to purchase fresh parchment paper.
He would send a letter, just one, as a gesture beyond the scope of professionalism. As a means of comfort for when his words failed him, he hoped the written word wouldn’t.
“The time for childish thoughts are over, understood?” The man before her was nothing like her previous memories of him. The man from her memory was kind, gentle with both his actions and words. The memory of that gentle man was replaced with his present demeanor, who was callus as his over-worked hands and reflected the chill felt outside.
Today was the day when he wanted her to grow up, to become as cold as the wind whipping through the cemetery. He emulated the gloom that was being cast down upon the pair who stood before a marked grave. It read that of her deceased mother, of a loving wife, and marked the beginning of her growing up. The next step in her journey, which would include the makings of a good worker and replacement for her deceased mother.
All Shelagh Mannion wanted to do was place dairies upon her mother’s grave, an innocent attempt at affection for her beloved mother. However, her father didn’t see the action for what it was. Instead, he saw it as a weakness and wanted her to understand that such notions were not tolerated anymore.
Continue reading “Sum of A Woman (1.1)”
‘Had it really been a year and a half since his family was truly complete?’ Patrick thought to himself as he watched his one year old daughter squirm around silently in her cot. She would never know (perhaps one day) the struggles his wife and him bared until the coming days of her adoption. Coupled by the internal scarring of Shelagh’s infertility and his, the mental scaring left after the war.
Continue reading “Home Reveries”
Once I do a bit more writing and feel confident in my work, this will be the master’s page of my fictions.