Autumn Fountains & Rain

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
short story written 3 years ago. not my best.

Submitted: May 20, 2009

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Submitted: May 20, 2009



He ambles out of the impressive French windows, looking depressed and awfully mopey, onto the formal, expensive stone patio…Maybe he is this way because it is the anniversary of his wife’s death. It has only been one year and his depression is just as bad as it was on that tragic day.

He looks so lost and lonely.

He stares at the expanse of grass, gravel and the amazingly landscaped garden before him, the vibrant autumnal oranges and reds that make the garden seem so beautiful.


He sighs heavily and looks round to the French windows as if he is expecting to see someone standing there. His subconscious controlling his movements, still not come to terms with the passing of his wife; she used to stand at those windows every morning with a cup of coffee smiling at him. She was a beautiful woman who looked more youthful than her years, and they were a perfect match as husband and wife, the strains and pains of life never revealing themselves on their faces. Both of them dressed formally all the time, no matter the occasion… but since he has become a widower he has began dressing much more casually, some would call him scruffy.


He is in his own world now, but he jumps when the tiny grey and brown kitten; that’s fur has spectacular markings, wraps herself around his feet and begins purring loudly. He found the kitten by the roadside and took her home about four weeks ago. The kitten has settled in well and has taken to sitting near the huge, ancient willow tree, on the magnificent beech bench the man has made in memory of his late wife. Every summer his wife used to get a deckchair and read a book in that very spot, where the bench is now placed.


It seems like he and the kitten do not notice the heavy rain soaking them through. The elegant man begins to wander aimlessly round the massive garden, he seems to have lost all hope to live. You can see by his facial expression, that depression is eating away at him. The expression of pain and loss on his face is aging him, he looks so helpless and lost, it’s as though he doesn’t belong.


Suddenly he turns and starts traipsing over to the grand water fountain, which was once beautiful, white and shiny, but since she  passed away it has gradually got dirtier and now it is a dirty shade of grey with algae encrusted into every nook and cranny that water flows into. The man dips his hand into the ice cold water and swishes it around making the water splash and go into waves. The robins have just started to visit the fountain again, she  loved the autumn and seeing the robins again touched a heartstring for him and a salty tear ran down his freezing face.


He was a very handsome man, with a strong chiselled jaw line and kind, loving features. All the women adored him.


He has aged quite well, his mahogany coloured eyes carrying so much emotion.


Most days now he doesn’t really take much care in his appearance, he usually just slings on some jeans and a t-shirt, but today is different, today he looks rather more formal with his freshly shaved face, a white shirt with black trousers and smart shoes, all of which are now soaked with rain. Maybe he just decided to have a change by dressing like this... or maybe he is dressing more formally because it is the anniversary of his wife’s death.


He wanders over to the beech bench and sits down slowly, he sighs a long sigh then starts speaking… “I miss you ever so much, I know you would be angry with me for being almost agoraphobic for the past year, but I just can’t bring myself to have a good time without you…” by now his voice is shaking with emotion and he is beginning to cry “…I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you died, I don’t know how much longer I can survive without you. My heart feels like it has been torn apart, I know you would want me to by happy and to move on but I just can’t, I would do anything to bring you back, to have you in my arms again.” He is in full tears and he has his head held in his hands.


His wife died from a gun shot wound, someone charged into their home with the intention of stealing all their sentimental possessions…but she go in the robber’s path, so he callously shot her twice, the first time


 in the chest causing her so fall and


again. The final time just to make sure she died…a shot to the heart.


She would have died a slow and painful death, by the time he reached her she was lying in a pool of blood.




He blames himself for her death, he thinks that if he had locked the all the doors then none of this would of happened…everyone has tried to tell him that if the robber wanted to get in than no matter what he would get in…but he wont believe them. He is a troubled man now, he’s attempted to take his own life twice.


I feel so sorry for him, his sadness, his pain, his depression is too much for anyone to deal with, he doesn’t deserve it.

He has to be saved.

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