Bones (a short story)
PostPosted: Sat May 30, 2009 2:52 pm
My friend William was a slight man with sharp angular features. His hair was a lovely color, not unlike that of fresh honey combs, but was always a terrible mess of snarled curls. They were impossible to tame and unyielding to any comb. He had bright eyes that spoke of spring if you would listen. Beautiful green eyes that seemed to always be laughing at some unspoken joke that only the two of them knew.
I had come to live with William when I was just sixteen. Fresh out of boarding school in Europe, I had returned to America to find my parents had not survived the depression. Mother had grown ill and passed peacefully in her dreams, Father was stricken with grief and made a gun his friend. Rather than wander the streets I took up a job at the local meat market. That is where I met William.
William was eighteen at the time. He was running the store all by himself. I had asked before what had happened to his family. He had just smiled sadly and said, “My parents left me and my four brothers to fend for ourselves…my brothers were so young, they didn’t make it.â€
I had come to live with William when I was just sixteen. Fresh out of boarding school in Europe, I had returned to America to find my parents had not survived the depression. Mother had grown ill and passed peacefully in her dreams, Father was stricken with grief and made a gun his friend. Rather than wander the streets I took up a job at the local meat market. That is where I met William.
William was eighteen at the time. He was running the store all by himself. I had asked before what had happened to his family. He had just smiled sadly and said, “My parents left me and my four brothers to fend for ourselves…my brothers were so young, they didn’t make it.â€
