Though Willard had always pictured himself in the subtle gray pinstripe, he decided against it at the last moment. Years of maintaining a keen edge on the trouser crease that was once the definition of a well groomed man, had weakened the fabric and left what now appeared to be a light gray chalk line running dead center down the front and back of each pant leg.
He chose instead a polished silk blend, in charcoal. He had always loved the tapered waist on the jacket and hand carved ornamental buttons on the sleeves, but felt the tri-pleat on the front of the trouser insinuated a pauchiness that distracted from the otherwise clean cut of the suit and therefore was never comfortable wearing the jacket open.
There would be no reason to wear the jacket open today.
Scrupulously shaved, and every hair oiled into place, Willard chose a muted striped tie that would neither add to nor distract from the sheen of the suit, and threaded it though the starched white collar of his dress shirt. He tied a crisp Windsor knot, checking it thrice for straightness, before slipping into the suit jacket.
In what now seemed to have been another life, Willard would have headed from his dressing room down to the kitchen, where his Mary would have one lacy fried egg, a generous slice of cured ham and thick cut marbled rye bread toasted to perfection and buttered thoroughly, from crust to crust, waiting for him.
He would place the egg face down on one piece of toast, cover it with the sliced ham, and then after folding it just so, enjoy every succulent bite washed down with strong black coffee, while Mary slathered the remaining piece of toast with her homemade jam and outlined for him her days events, her gold flecked brown eyes shimmering like so much whiskey in a glass.
Today, however, Willard prepared for himself a spartan breakfast and ate alone at the yellow laminate kitchen table, with only the morning paper for company.
On his way to the garage, he started to straighten the soft ecru antimacassar his Mary had tatted to protect the seat back of his favorite chair, but then thought better of it. He folded the cameo shaped doily with care, and tucked it neatly into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
Arriving early, Willard asked for and was granted a few moments alone with his Mary before anyone else arrived. Careful not to soil the robins egg blue silk of her favorite suit with his tears, Willard cradled her gently and lifted her toward him.
Withdrawing the antimacassar from his interior pocket, Willard covered the stark white of the slumber pillow with the warm familiar ecru doily taking great care to center it just so, before he settled his Mary back into her resting place.
There was a quiet rap on the door before the mortuary attendant entered.
“Are we ready to receive guests?”
Willard cleared his throat, tugging gently on his perfectly knotted tie. “Yes, I believe we are.”
This was painstakingly written to satisfy the three phrases provided by the OLWG #24. The phrases were:
- Whiskey in a glass
- The keen edge
- Antimacassar
A beautiful story. You took a lot of care. Perfect.
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Oh my goodness Violet. The title says it all, the words, the story…..Just So. Beautifully written.
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Delightful and tastefully written.
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This knocked me back, it is so good!
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Heartbreakingly beautiful!
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Every detail. You are attentive, and with it, you create the living picture 🙂
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Gorgeous, with a timely whiff of Downton Abbey. A beautiful homage to an age gone by, and the punctilious sorrow of a man for his dear wife, who passed along with it.
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Beautifully written and extremely poignant. Thank you. 💜🌹
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This is sublime, Violet. So beautifully written with the meticulous details of his grief. Absolutely stunning.
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Immaculately prosed, as usual.
By the way, are you okay?
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I am! But thank you for asking. I am finishing up my contract in Healy next week, and will be moving to a little log cabin in Fairbanks October first. I will have normal internet access there as well as data on my phone, so you can expect to see and hear a lot more from me then.
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I’m glad to hear that. I know you’ve been very busy, but also worried that maybe I’d offended you.
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Oh, god no! I just have maybe an hour of internet available to me per day, and have to go to the communal ‘wash house’ to get it so I have been sparse with anything outside of writing and posting. I love you dearly and intend to be much more attentive here in the near future…. Consider yourself forewarned….. bwahhhhhhhh….
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Oh, good. 😀 or maybe “Oh, dear…”
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Loved the timeliness of the piece. Going to have to look up antimacassar!
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Violet, this is exquisite and deeply felt. ❤
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This lovely story really was, just so… Perfect in every way, Violet…
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Thank you so much. This is one of my favorites too … It’s so nice when someone happens upon a piece I’m really proud of.
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Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
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A beautiful story. Thanks for sharing it.
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Thank you so much for reading. I am honored to have the opportunity to share it with you.
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Looks like Diana linked to you. You’re about to get deluged! You deserve it!
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I am so jazzed! And she doesn’t even have comments open so I can thank her. 💜
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She’s sneaky like that.
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Poignant and tender…
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Thanks for being here to share it with me.
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So restrained, yet so vivid and full of emotion. Lovely.
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Sometimes it is the near absence of emotion that hits the hardest. Thank you so much for stopping by.
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Yes!
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Hi, Violet. Diana Wallace Peach shared this story on her blog and I was so taken with it, I had to come and read the rest. This is so beautifully written with so much attention to detail. You have me in the room with Willard and Mary for their final farewell. It’s great to meet you!
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Thank you Jan. I am so glad you had a chance to read this post. It is one of the ones I really labored over, and it is good to know that labor paid off.
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You did a splendid job, I’m so glad I stopped by!
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Thank you so much for stopping by. I am so glad this piece was so well received.
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My pleasure!
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A moving story, beautifully written.
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Thank you Liz. It is one of the ones of which I am most proud to be able to say ‘I wrote this…’
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Rightly so!
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Really lovely. And of course I had to look up antimacassar. New word for the day!
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Thanks for stopping in for a read. Antimacassar was a new word for me too….
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I can see that word being a game changer for someone in a spelling bee. 🙂
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Intricately detailed work. Such a beautifully sad story.
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One of the few I am especially proud of. Thanks for finding it and taking the time to read.
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