Thursday, February 9, 2012

RETURNING TO CORFU...

Ethan would have asked more questions, but the train slowed down and the passengers began to rise from their seats and crush toward the platforms. Angeline continued to sit, looking out the window blankly staring out at the soot covered Hamlet. She was home. She hated being here...

5 comments:

  1. Do I see a thorn among roses? VERY cool!

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  2. Yes, Indeed Marie.

    Stay tuned for other bits of familiarity! Coming soon!

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  3. RETURNING TO CORFU...

    Ethan would have asked more questions, but the train slowed down and the passengers began to rise from their seats and crush toward the platforms. Angeline continued to sit, looking out the window blankly staring out at the soot covered Hamlet. She was home. She hated being here.

    It wasn't so much that she hated Corfu. It was alright as far as small intimate places go. But Angeline had visions. Dreams of being someone special. Mama always insisted Angeline WAS special. She only felt... ordinary. Back home, she felt even more insignificant. Angeline struggled with the thought of getting off of the train.

    "Angel" Ethan called. "You coming?"

    Angeline looked toward Ethan with moistened eyes; make-up smeared and running. She nodded as her reply caught in her throat.

    Ethan gathered her shoulder bag and placed his hand under her arm, helping her to her feet. She smiled sadly; her pain was palpable.

    "Ethan," she stopped suddenly "I never said goodbye. I..." her voice trailed off. "I never said goodbye!"

    Angeline had left Corfu six years earlier. She had been beaten down by life here. The young woman was a brilliant writer. But the best Corfu had to offer, was a stint as a beat reporter at the Journal. Council Meetings and petty crimes. Police Blotters and the High School football team scores. She was wasting her words here. Her mother tried convincing Angeline that she wasn't very good at what she did. This writing... was a phase. She'll tire of it and end up marrying Herb from the Garage.

    But her father believed in her words. They possessed power; expressive and passionate. She could be an author, or a publisher. Why, she could be anything she would put her mind to be. That's why leaving him was so hard. His health was failing rapidly. She wanted to stay. She should have stayed. But Angeline took that job in New York. Now that she was home, it was too late to say goodbye. Or Hello. Her father was gone.

    Angeline felt Ethan squeeze her elbow. Looking back over her shoulder she caught a glimpse of Corfu out of the dust encrusted window of the train.

    "Ready?" he asked.

    She nodded and took a deep breath.

    "I'm home, Daddy" she whispered.

    Angeline had returned to Corfu.

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  4. As Angeline heard the screeching of the friction of iron rail and titanium wheels trying to stop, she was awakened from her daydream of what was her vaction to a great society.
    She was in Paris, with great food, the Effil Tower and basically great everything. But as they say, all good things must come to a close.
    Now, as she dismounted the train with her heavy luggage and great memories ahe felt terribly, tragically sad because she knew what was coming up. Mom.
    Her motherwas always the first one to pop her bubble. She hated the fact that Angeline wanted to be a violinist. She refuse to accept that Angeline was her child. She thought it was an abomination that Angeline was against every word she spoke. Angeline liked it like that.
    Then there was Ethan. Her neighbor since they we each two. He had restored that thought bubble for her and had come to Paris with her. He belived in what she was doing and wanted to stick with her through thick and thin. He wanted to be a author, and Angeline supported him as well.
    Angeline walked to what was her mother's house. To her it is not a home. If it were her home, she would have a great mother who engouraged her.
    So as she turned the knob, she wispered, "Corfu, I'm back. And I couldn't have missed you less."

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