A Story by nostal

short fiction

He had a dog for three years and after it was poisoned he had nobody. He woke up hot early mornings already sweating and ground and heated coffee in a blackened pot atop a crackling fire in the dirt kitchen. Sometimes he heard the lulling voice of his woman coming from a terrace overlooking the modest cluster of tin-roofed shacks but then he had to remind himself that she had been dead of tetanus for close to two decades.
On most mornings he made his way deliberately and thoughtfully to the town's central plaza where there were four ancient oak trees around a finely sculpted stone fountain depicting a baby-faced cherub dangling an infant by the wrist while pointing toward the heavens. The water sprayed out from tiny pock marks on the cherub's head and splashed down from steep arcs. 
He laid his worn walking stick in the grass and reclined against one of the four great trees in the shade. A single squirrel skittered down the length of the oak, paused sniffing near his cane, and then made off toward the fountain with hesitant leaps in the still dark early morning. The white town hall building waited quiet and forlorn, to the side of the plaza, visible in front of the fountain, with granite steps leading to a long portico and the main entrance shouldered by two pedestals supporting sculpted lions, roaring mutely in the pale dark turning red with the peeping sun.   

© 2014 nostal

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Nice descriptions; invokes a rare mood.

Posted 7 Years Ago

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1 Review
Added on April 3, 2014
Last Updated on April 3, 2014
Tags: fiction, short story




Been here since 2007. 16. I dig ambient soundscape music and often write while listening to Boards of Canada or Aphex Twin. Don't be afraid to offer serious constructive criticism, for I take .. more..

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