An excerpt: “Death in the Early Evening”

This is an excerpt from a novel I am currently writing with the working title “Death in the Early Evening.” I will not go into too much detail since the novel is not finished. But I thought I would give a little peek into the story of a woman who throws a party to celebrate her own impending death from the point of view of her twenty-something granddaughter. Enjoy.

. . .

For ten years the three of us lived together. After my grandfather died my mother could hardly hold a job for more than a few months so my grandmother took us in to her house, her mausoleum of a house. Since every memory of grandfather had been removed it seemed to be the only place we didn’t have to think about him every day. To my mother it was a relief and after only a year she was working regularly again. I on the other hand missed him every day. After my father had left my mother and I when I was too young to remember him my grandfather was the only man in my life. He was the only calm, stable one. He and I would sit silently in the forest near the house and eat wild lingonberries. He would close his eyes and breathe in the deep stillness of the trees and I would watch him and do the same. The weekends on which I would visit my grandparents when my mother had gone on one of her private trips are still my greatest memories. I can still see the white winged moths flitting through the trees like miniature white handkerchiefs carried by the wind. 

More people had arrived since I had first peeked downstairs crouched behind the cold metal bannister. I almost laughed at myself, in my twenties and again behaving like a child. This party was making me young again, even my clothes seemed to be strangely loose. I paused in front of the bathroom mirror before heading downstairs to greet these lifelong strangers. I was surprised to see myself as I was. I didn’t look like myself, or perhaps I had not seen my reflection in a while. My hair was soft but fell limp around my shoulders, my skin looked too light and I wondered when was the last time I smiled. I forced a smile to my reflection. My mouth dropped and my reflection shook her head at me. I straightened my black dress and turned the light off before I could catch a glimpse of myself again, I knew if I did I would start crying and never make it to the party. 

. . .

 

These words, characters and situations are the creative property of Madison Lisle. Do not duplicate, copy or reference without express permission from the owner. Unpublished work Copyright 2017 Madison Lisle. All rights reserved.

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