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A New Beginning

written by: heathersdan

Emerging from the womb of his self imposed sanctuary, he struggled to
shield his eyes from the assault of the sun. For years he had lived
comfortably in the refuge he had prepared. Hung on the crumbling walls
were pictures of flowering gardens and rolling surfs. The happy faces
of family and friends sat framed on every piece of dusty furniture.
These were the people he surrounded himself with. A soft fluorescence
glowed above and simple rugs rested below. This was the world he
created. It was comfortable.
The glare of the outside was disorienting. Swirling in the white
intensity were pulsating shells of color which occasionally made him
recoil. Shadows darted through his wounded view and sporadically
charged
his position.
Swiftly retreating, the door slammed shut, punctuated softly by the
hush of his exhale. Perhaps it was too soon. Perhaps later in the day,
or better yet, the week he would consider a more measured advance.


Leaning against the door sweat blanketed his face. His eyes were
slowly recovering and shapes began to take form. Familiar figures
encouraged him and he stepped from the door into the living room. He
dropped relieved into his chair next to the table that supported the
picture he cherished most.
The frame sat atop the letter. He read it. Again.
He fidgeted momentarily in his chair. It was about time for a new one.
He couldnt remember the last time he sat comfortably there. Walking
across the room his eyes noted the calendar. July 2002. His stomach
churned. He turned abruptly away.

He couldnt remember what had prompted him outside. A sound, a
familiar flicker from behind a faded shade? It was lost for now. Her
jacket was still hanging by the door, abandoned in her break. He
wished she took it with her.




Pivoting away he noticed the drapery over the front window which he
pulled slightly back revealing a worn shade. That had only recently
captured his attention. It was a visually isolated spot. Standing
there, back to the rest of the room, he examined the glow which warmed
the sill. That would be a good spot for a new chair. The spot was
small but one unaccompanied chair would sit perfectly there.


He wandered through the house looking for a chair that would suit the
spot.
There were plenty of chairs in the kitchen and dining room, but none
he could comfortably recline in. Clearly that was an essential
quality. The attic was likely to have something useful, but he hadn't
been up there for years. She had stored everything up there. Someday
he would sift through the boxes and try to figure out where everything
went. There were likely things that needed addressing and others that
could be let go. Someday.

Returning empty-handed to that spot somehow frustrated him. The drapes
were discolored. They had been bright yellow years ago but time and
lack of attention had stolen their vibrancy. Maybe this wasn't such a
great spot after all. He returned to his chair by the picture and sat.
He looked at the picture, he began to read the letter, he noticed the
calendar, and his eye was drawn to the shade. The discomfort surged
inside him .This chair just was not for him any more. He stood up,
retraced the mornings steps, and paused at the door. Taking a deep
breath the door swung open and he strode out into the sun, the
flowers, and the butterflies. He poignantly punctuated his launch with
the hush of a satisfied exhale.

/What a beautiful day. /

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