I wanted to have this up a bit earlier but my internet was on the frits for most of the day but here it is! 😀
He was born in Africa, and his parents were famous explorers. That was all he knew of his childhood, he remembered nothing, he knew nothing, except that his parents where dead. On occasion though if the wind was blowing just right he would catch a hint of a familiar smell, an exotic smell. So it made sense that he would chase it. He followed this smell, this wind every where within his power to go, and it always lead him to the same place, to the sea. He was afraid of the sea.
He was 20 when he went on his first tour. it was a tour of all the estates in England… there are a lot of estates in England. It was rumored by many he’d even been to the palace several times and was a very good friend of the Queen’s, he laughed at this, him friends with a Queen? He wrote a book it became very popular so he toured some more, to ancient battle sites and historical spots. He wrote books on these as well. He was an adventurer people said, like his parents, all without stepping out of the country. He was content and then the teasing wind would pick up again. “You’ve got to get a hold of yourself,” his publisher told him, “stop chasing air.” That was when his publisher suggested churches.
He remember that church very well, the one were all the stained glass windows were modeled after flowers with faces like something out of a book he once read. He thought he was alone in the church when he heard a yelp and turned in time to see a red haired girl falling of of the organ. She hit the ground with a sicking crunch, he ran to her aide. She didn’t even cry she just held her arm close to her an looked up at him with big curious eyes. “Are you my catipillar?” she asked reaching up and touching the hem of his powder blue coat. His heart melted.
He had never been in love before, his publisher’s daughter always sat beside him at dinner laughing and flirting. But that was just buisness, something that would lead to a sensible marriage, Lou Ann was different. The day before Lou Ann’s birthday he found a baby hare alone in he middle of a field he saved it knowing Lou Ann would take care of it, it spoke to him in a dream that night, “One wish,” it said. Three weeks of utter happness later Lou Ann came to his room holding that little hare, a baby she said. He told his publisher, “she’s mad, she’s makeing it up,” he hold him, “I have a source that says this has happened before, and that she suffers from moon madness. Besides its a bad career move.” He was to nieve, he believed this, maybe he didn’t love her enough to begin with… A bad career move.
He left, He told her he’d be back but they both knew he wouldn’t, he couldn’t even give her one last kiss. As the door shut behind him his heart shattered and the wind picked up. A few months later He recived a letter saying the baby had been lost, this confirmed to him that it had been right to leave, that it had all been a con. He married Lily, his publisher’s daughter, with in the month and he loved her “just in a different way he told himself.” They had twelve children, of these children there was one set of triplets and one set of twins.
He was among the first men to sign up for war though he was older they let him in to teach the younger men, he never was shipped out of England. The war took his leg, in the hospital he fancied he saw Lou Ann dressed up as a nurse. He wished one more time to see her, one wish said the baby hair. Lou Ann, her name as he read the paper, she was doing an art tour, she would be in Belgium. He packed up his family, an adventure he told them, Lily had found the newspaper clipping in his jacket, but still she went as the dutiful but unloved wife she was. This was the first time since his arrival he had ever left England.
He was taken in by Lou Ann’s paintings. “Still searching for wonderland,” he remarked when he saw a painting that held both a blue caterpillar and a white rabbit. He saw Lou Ann from across the room, he saw from the look in her eyes and knew that his publisher, his father in-law had lied. If his heart could of broken again it would have, but you see it had never mended, it always had remained broken since the day he shut the door. He and his family left the next day.
20 years later just before the second world war, when his grandchildren were old enough to have children of their own and his wife was long dead, she died from lack of love as some people do but he was to naive to see even then, the wind called him for the last time. He picked up his crutches and walked into the sea. As he floated into oblivion he could have sworn he heard Lou Ann singing, as always about wonderland, but he, he would dream of Africa.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/10/weekly-writing-challenge-golden-years/
standinginthestorm 