For day nine click here.
The house lays empty now. High up on the hill you’d think someone would have noticed the flames. He revved the engine of his car and drove away from the shell of the house. There was nothing left in it for him now, nor for anyone.
But he had jumped and he had lived, even if the house had not.
For day four click here.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
He laid them down on the table, with a clunk as he counted. Five wedding rings for five wives. They were all gone now, of course. He looked at the box which contained another gold ring. For wife number six. What would happen to her? He hadn’t decided yet.
For day one click here
The invitations arrived today. Ornately decorated with two turtle doves on either side of the page forming a heart. Symbols of love in folklore. I threw them in the bin along with the engagement ring.
Summer plucked one of the pears from the tree and bit into it, the juice dripping down her chin. The day was sunny and warm, a partridge flew into the tree knocking a few more ripe pears from the tree that landed with a thump on the grass beneath. The bird sang. Summer scrambled to pick up all the pears so she could eat them later. The bird flew away again before it had finished it’s song and the garden felt silent without the sound.
That winter the snow fell thick upon the ground, but the tree still bore pears. Heavy and ripe they fell from the tree and dropped silently in the snow. Summer thought the silence was too loud. She no longer ate the pears from the tree and the unfinished song of the partridge that had never returned, roared in her ears like a spell.