A beaming bright day stood on the other side of the old woman's curtain. The inside of the curtain on the other hand, was rather gloomy, rooming an old woman on her death bed. Her whole family had been dropping by for the past week, the very little family she had. Her daughter Lettie on the other hand was not one to 'just drop by'. She had been by her Mothers side for the past week, comforting and supporting the Mother who was very mysterious but loving throughout her childhood. The old woman requested only one thing as her time was getting shorter. An old box that had been hidden away in her attic for the past sixty years.
"Mother, we have the box you asked for." Her daughter whispered in her ear.
For the first in days, the old woman opened her eyes, cautiously eying the box. The box was not even opened yet and she felt a set of emotions engulf her. It was like smelling a perfume, one whiff, or glance in her situation had years of memories floating back.
Lettie helped her Mother sit up, then carefully placed the box on her lap curiously wondering the importance of the box.
It was not very large, though it did look aged and had the name 'Dwyer' on the side of the box. The name sparking her curiosity even further.
"I told myself in 1945 I would never set eyes on this box ever again." The old woman stated.
She stared at the box for another second before taking a breath and removing the top, revealing an old blanket, pictures, letters, and pressed flowers.
She grabbed a photograph first, what looked to be a handsome young man in a uniform standing by an airplane. No smile, but his breathtaking eyes and dimples was apparent.
Lettie looked at her Mother and saw tears starting to fall down her cheeks.
"Mother what's wrong, who is that?"
She smiled.
"I forgot how beautiful his eyes were."
Lettie assumed it was an old lover of her Mothers, Lettie's Father died five years ago but what she had heard from him was he was in the war helping as a doctor, not a soldier who flew planes. and his last name was not Dwyer for her last name was Jackson.
"What happened to him?"
She stopped looking at the photograph and looked at her daughter
"The Dwyer Boys were never rational-" She began.
YOU ARE READING
The Seventh Day
Historical Fiction"James I wish I never met you, this was one huge mistake." I cried watching the rain drip down his uniform. "Fine. I will see you on the other side then." He replied. "Just go! " I yelled watching him leave with no sound other than my uncontrollable...
