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Keeping the promise

Short story By: Nixie
Flash fiction


Tags: Father, Past, Death


A girl who misses her father, intends on keeping her promise.


Submitted:Jun 3, 2008    Reads: 179    Comments: 7    Likes: 4   


Kelly stood at the fringe of the grass, a few feet back from where her fathers headstone stood. The day was shy of ending and the clouds had but parted; it was a mirror of her emotions. This was day one of starting all over again, barely able to breath, only cry like a new born and for what? She had no idea, her father had passed so long ago.

There the thunder rolled above her as a gentle pitter-patter broke through the moist air cooling her clammy cheeks. Her eyes clogged as she looked down at the grey stone, worn throughout the years by England's fierce weather, it now had a little character to it.

The corners were cracked, crumbled by the beat of acid rain and the colour was a dulled and brown where the letters "A.J.K" where carved. She stepped onto the grass, the rain making a mess of her shoes and knelt enough to be able to trace the letters with her finger.

"Adam Jack Kooper" came a voice from the other side of the headstone.

With a sharp breath, Kelly pulled her hand away and looked up. There a man in a black suit stood, a gentle nod, his jaw clamped in an emotional fight to speak.

"Who are you?" Kelly enthused and took from kneeling, back to the edge of the pavement.

The man looked up and ruffled his hair nervously. "I knew Adam, an old friend back in the day…" too choked to finish he lifted his head to the sky.

Kelly offered him a sympathetic tilt as she watched the mans face wilt against the rain. She recognised his silence, she knew his pain, he felt guilt as she did. The man looked down again, his face now wet with tears or rain, Kelly could not tell.

"I grew up with you father, Kelly" he swallowed and waited for her to respond.

With her head still tilted she searched him, his pleading eye's from where the salty drops fell collecting and dripping from his trembling chin, down to his loosely worn tie to his unpolished shoes, now coated with mud. She didn't know him yet he felt familiar to her.

"You must be, 10 years if not more, younger than my father" she began and watched him nod softly. "And that is not counting the 10 years since his death!" she said, the last word leaving her mouth roughly, more so than intended.

The man ruffled his hair again, "You're right. We're, were 35 years, if not more apart now" he informed her and took a step forward to get a better look at her. Again he moved closer until she could see him better.

"Stop!" she told him and as if to signify the moment the sky grew darker and the rain harsher.

The man had made his point. She knew him very well. He was the one, the one her father had told her about.

"The day will come where man will leap years, where the past will be one with the present and when this day comes, do not let me change anything. Promise me!"

Kelly shook the voice of her father away and looked up at the man before her. "I can't change what happened to you. I'm sorry, but I promised you."

The man - her father looked at her, now sorry for being there. He was bitter at himself and was proud of his daughter. Holding his tongue from all that he desired he watched the tears roll down her cheeks and then, as if never there at all, vanished leaving her alone to cradle herself while she wept, the storm breaking above her.





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