Slipper - PART 1

Slipper - PART 1

A Story by Sachi Ruaya
"

UNFINISHED!! Most organisations, operations and locations exist but the story is purely the author's. Operation Slipper. Where my father was last deployed...where he lost his very life...

"

Sachiko Mochiko

SLIPPER



September 10, 2018

 

My father died on the day I was born. Ma would always tattle me about him. There was not one single day that she would not talk about him. She would describe how she met him whilst dying the white sections of her hair, how he loved busking and how sweet he was since he sent instant pictures every second month through the mail. She would also tell me about the terrorist attacks in New York and Washington on September 2001 and the operation that my father was last deployed by the name of Operation Slipper.

 

“On the airport, I was nauseous about the deployment,” Ma nods her head from left-to-right and fiddles with her watch that loosely clutches her left wrist, glittering its rose-gold twinkle, “It was not until we kissed goodbye that I held back the words, that I knew, will not sway his determination to go.” Listening to her pack bags for tomorrow, I lay my most formal suit on the bed "pending for ironing. Suddenly, my mother chuckled, “Well, what could have friggin’ happened anyway?”

 

September 11, 2018

 

The subtle, fresh sweetness of the early air respire through my body. Morning. I head towards the kitchen, ignoring the painfully numbing tiles, I pick up the freshly ironed suit to visit the Springvale War Cemetery "where the remains of my father’s remains lay. Usually, at the death anniversary of my father, Ma would overload me with blather about my father. Sometimes to the point way beyond my comprehension. But today is utterly different. Ma’s head hung low, at heart, avoiding eye contact with me.

 

“Is this my lunch?”

 

“Hm” Ma ploddingly nods, clutching her watch.

 

That’s it. Conversation over.

 

The journey "of an hour- was no different. The jazz music’s soft bass resonates throughout the blue hooptie, words are unspoken between us. It was not until Ma drove to Princes Highway my tongue reached its breaking point, “Stop giving me that damn silent treaty! What’s wrong?” “Watch. Your. Mouth.” Ma’s voice is monotone. Her stern pitch-black eyes ignore my choice to turmoil like a deep, dark, cold abyss. Her white roots blend into her newly dyed sections of hair. I notice her hair is down "another unusual figure. I start to feel uneasy. Swirls of thick anxiety wavered in my chest. We arehere.

© 2017 Sachi Ruaya


Author's Note

Sachi Ruaya
Another quick story that I wrote...left you on a cliffhanger again. HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA

Check mah punctuation and tenses...

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Reviews

Thanks for the FR. I detect a burgeoning talent here and will happily offer what advice an old timer like me can offer. But well written anyway. One teensy little critique. I mentioned my extreme old age. My eyes are as old as the rest of me and a larger font would help...

Posted 6 Years Ago


Peter Rogerson

6 Years Ago

I use 14 pt I write my material using the freely downloadable Libre Office and copy and paste it to .. read more
Sachi Ruaya

6 Years Ago

hmm..I'm not quite sure how to fix that since I do not use Libre Office. May I also know what type .. read more
Peter Rogerson

6 Years Ago

It's easy enough to fix without resorting to wasting time poking through the vaults of the Internet... read more

Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

110 Views
1 Review
Added on November 20, 2017
Last Updated on November 20, 2017
Tags: war, deployment, death, victoria, war cemetery, cemetery, grave, springvale, australia, botanical, mystery, thriller, descriptive

Author

Sachi Ruaya
Sachi Ruaya

Victoria, Australia



About
Sachi is an observant art lover who takes pride in her strong verbal and written communication skills as she regards her love for learning. She highly values collaboration and efforts to create innova.. more..

Writing