A Story by p lawrence

Life passages.

He loaded the trunk first. Packages neatly wrapped, parcel post-ready boxes in dull brown paper with tidy strings tied squarely around, were gently placed next to the spare tire and a small toolbox. A frayed Raggedy Ann doll was placed in the back seat, her worn yarn face facing forward. The painted head of an old rocking horse was laid beside her where at one time two young girls swung their legs impatiently, unconcerned about scuffing the seat in front of them.

When he settled in behind the wheel, he reached across the front seat, opened the door, and took hold of the woman’s cane, which he placed in the usual spot between them. When she settled in, he started the engine, but he then emerged from the sedan. 

He walked to the garage window and pressed his face against the glass for a better look in the amber autumn light, his gray beard crinkling against the cold surface as he scanned the empty space. He jiggled the lock twice, just to be sure.

© 2021 p lawrence

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I'm not positive what happened, but it's interesting and I keep going over the scene in my mind. Surely, it has something to do with time.

Posted 4 Months Ago

p lawrence

4 Months Ago

Much thanks for the read. They are leaving their home for a final time, memories now in boxes.
Samuel Dickens

4 Months Ago

Okay. I was trying to make more of it than there was. A sad scene, and one I can picture well.

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1 Review
Added on March 14, 2021
Last Updated on March 14, 2021
Tags: home, family, age, time, memory


p lawrence
p lawrence


Thanks for stopping by. I live just outside of New York City where I write short stories, flash fiction and occasional prose poetry. I've been fortunate to have both my short fiction and prose poetry .. more..

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