Homecoming 3a
by scamp
Posted: 13 February 2009 Word Count: 631 Summary: Any comments appreciated I have 2 endings for this therefore the a |
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Homecoming 3a
Colin stood at the edge of the cliff, his body sagged in a cameo of misery. Desolation overwhelmed him. How in God’s name had it all come to this. One moment a happy secure family life with Fiona and his son and daughter, now nothing.
Last night had been awful. The usual friendly pre-meal chat and dram with Fiona had become two then three as voices raised, the argument grew heated, as previously hidden resentments surfaced with the alcohol.
Horrible things had been said but he’d had no idea how deeply Fiona blamed him for their children leaving home. She accused him of having been always on their backs, pushing them from one achievement to the next, never taking time to celebrate their successes. Never just sitting down to have a chat and really listen to them. So, never seeing what fine young people they had become.
First Jamie had stormed out of the house slinging a rucksack on his back saying,
‘That’s it! I’ve had enough, I’m off for good,’ then slamming the door.
Then shortly after, but more quietly Hazel said that she needed some time away, to find herself.. That she had plans but did not want to discuss them. Fiona had plead with both to keep in touch and call anytime for help but Colin had heard nothing since.
When he woke this morning the mug of tea on the bedside table was cold, as was the bed next to him. Colin looked out of the window. The mini and Fiona were gone.
Colin stepped forward, then paused as a flicker of movement caught his eye. He gazed in wonder as the little red and gold birds fluttered to and fro, eating black thistle seeds, the gold crests were back. He looked up as more flew in and for the first time noticed the beauty of the new day. The sky to the East was now a warming pink, fading from the crimson streaked dawn. The Bens were draped in Autumn’s colours. Rich red swathes of heather mingled with the yellows and golds of the drying bracken. The air was chill but as pure as inhaling the finest wine. He stood there for a long time then turned and walked home.
As Colin reached the back door there was a crunching as Fiona’s car swept up the gravel drive. He rushed to hold her then stopped at the look of sheer joy on her face as Hazel climbed out. She’d returned from the Buddhist retreat in the Borders to let them know she was safe, content and very happy.
Later that day the door crashed open and a familiar voice yelled,
‘Hi, its me, I’m back.’
Deeply tanned from his time in the Austrian Alps where he had been teaching skiing and mountaineering, Jamie also had come home in time for the celebrations. Colin had completely forgotten it was his 50th Birthday.
Colin sat, humbled, quiet at the table. He basked in the laughter and chat accompanied by delicious food and drink. Mentally he thanked and blessed God for his fortune. Sure, they had very little money but the sheer enjoyment in each other’s company, the deep love and caring which they shared, was worth more than all the treasures of the earth.
The doorbell rang and interrupted the
banter.
Colin got up and said, ‘it’ll be these damn salesmen again, I’ll soon get rid of them.’
‘Good Evening Mr MacM ----‘
‘Look, I don’t know what you’re selling but we don’t want anything. We are having a great family evening, please just go away!’
As he started to close the door the man shouted,
‘No Mr MacMillan, you’ve won £3 million pounds on the National Lottery!’
Ian MacMillan, Fernbank, 6th February, 2009
625 words
Colin stood at the edge of the cliff, his body sagged in a cameo of misery. Desolation overwhelmed him. How in God’s name had it all come to this. One moment a happy secure family life with Fiona and his son and daughter, now nothing.
Last night had been awful. The usual friendly pre-meal chat and dram with Fiona had become two then three as voices raised, the argument grew heated, as previously hidden resentments surfaced with the alcohol.
Horrible things had been said but he’d had no idea how deeply Fiona blamed him for their children leaving home. She accused him of having been always on their backs, pushing them from one achievement to the next, never taking time to celebrate their successes. Never just sitting down to have a chat and really listen to them. So, never seeing what fine young people they had become.
First Jamie had stormed out of the house slinging a rucksack on his back saying,
‘That’s it! I’ve had enough, I’m off for good,’ then slamming the door.
Then shortly after, but more quietly Hazel said that she needed some time away, to find herself.. That she had plans but did not want to discuss them. Fiona had plead with both to keep in touch and call anytime for help but Colin had heard nothing since.
When he woke this morning the mug of tea on the bedside table was cold, as was the bed next to him. Colin looked out of the window. The mini and Fiona were gone.
Colin stepped forward, then paused as a flicker of movement caught his eye. He gazed in wonder as the little red and gold birds fluttered to and fro, eating black thistle seeds, the gold crests were back. He looked up as more flew in and for the first time noticed the beauty of the new day. The sky to the East was now a warming pink, fading from the crimson streaked dawn. The Bens were draped in Autumn’s colours. Rich red swathes of heather mingled with the yellows and golds of the drying bracken. The air was chill but as pure as inhaling the finest wine. He stood there for a long time then turned and walked home.
As Colin reached the back door there was a crunching as Fiona’s car swept up the gravel drive. He rushed to hold her then stopped at the look of sheer joy on her face as Hazel climbed out. She’d returned from the Buddhist retreat in the Borders to let them know she was safe, content and very happy.
Later that day the door crashed open and a familiar voice yelled,
‘Hi, its me, I’m back.’
Deeply tanned from his time in the Austrian Alps where he had been teaching skiing and mountaineering, Jamie also had come home in time for the celebrations. Colin had completely forgotten it was his 50th Birthday.
Colin sat, humbled, quiet at the table. He basked in the laughter and chat accompanied by delicious food and drink. Mentally he thanked and blessed God for his fortune. Sure, they had very little money but the sheer enjoyment in each other’s company, the deep love and caring which they shared, was worth more than all the treasures of the earth.
The doorbell rang and interrupted the
banter.
Colin got up and said, ‘it’ll be these damn salesmen again, I’ll soon get rid of them.’
‘Good Evening Mr MacM ----‘
‘Look, I don’t know what you’re selling but we don’t want anything. We are having a great family evening, please just go away!’
As he started to close the door the man shouted,
‘No Mr MacMillan, you’ve won £3 million pounds on the National Lottery!’
Ian MacMillan, Fernbank, 6th February, 2009
625 words
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