Alice eyed the dusty piles on the little table. She and George had lived here twenty years. When had either of them last come into this room?
“Poor neglected thing,” Alice said to the table.
She made George lunch, then spent hours shredding forgotten papers.
“What’s for dinner?” George asked from the living room.
She polished the unburdened table. With its leaves up, it could seat eight. She imagined friends laughing around it, but George never liked company. As she folded the table up, tears surprised her. Its life had been so small. She wiped her eyes and went to cook.
I love this wonderful and quiet story! The emotional tone of grief for a vital potential that has been lost is expertly rendered through every word choice and detail. There’s a beauty and a sadness in how her division from herself is rendered, she stumbles upon her grief as though it is in this other!
Thank you! I am glad so much came through in this story, especially the emotional tones around ‘what could have been’.
Poor, neglected thing…. Ah, great anthropomorphism to show how she is feeling. Great piece.
Thank you! I am glad you enjoyed it.
I loved it too. A great metaphor and fabulous subtext.
Thank you, glad you liked the metaphor!
Lovely portrayal of the sadness of what could have been.
Thank you.
I love her connection and empathy with the table.