Christmas Without Charlie

[Harry]

I think I'd like to make a longer story put of this -- any ideas?

Christmas Without Charlie

Harry Buschman


"The kids are going back to school in the morning." She didn't know why she spoke the words aloud. There was no one around to hear them – no one but herself that is. "Strange ... it seems like you're still here ... there, I did it again." It would be good to pick up the routine of getting the kids off to school and getting herself to work again, it's hard to forget when one person is missing.

She wondered how many Christmases would come and go before she could forget Charlie. She stepped outside on the patio and let the door close softly behind her – how warm it was. Winter would be late this year.

She and the kids took the Christmas lights down this morning. She wound them again carefully and put them away so that come next year they would be ready for hanging again. Charlie always did that, he was always thinking ahead to next year. Paying off the mortgage. Making sure the insurance was paid up ... "You never know," he would say. "It's best to be ready."

It wasn't a bad Christmas, the kids had plenty to do, the neighbors were nice and Charlie's parents came over on Christmas day. They had a questioning look in their eyes ... "I wonder if she'll marry again ... maybe move away from here ... maybe this is the last Christmas we'll ever see the kids."

It was so warm this Christmas; the grass was still green ... no snow, and there was still a few dead roses, the yellow ones, clinging to the rambler bush by the side of the shed.

She tied the neck of the sack tightly. In it was the last of his clothes. She would bring them down to the used clothing bin at the church tomorrow after the kids were off to school. There was a good winter coat in there, somebody would be glad to have it when the weather got cold – if it ever did. She didn't want to do it while the kids were around.

Nothing to do now, she looked up at her bedroom window and shivered slightly. The thought of getting into the double bed and stretching out her hand to the empty side, the cold side where Charlie used to be.

the end

[Star_Anise]

It’s difficult to know exactly what you are trying to say from these fragments, Harry. There are a few themes surfacing, but where do you think you want to take it? I can feel the sense of loss, the uncertainty of the future, and what seems to be almost an indifference to the process of moving on, however they are somewhat hollow without a clear narrative thread. Is it about the choice she faces – to move on with life, or to stay in that space of grief, despite the forces which push her onward?

[Harry]

You've made me aware of something ... although this introduction is written third-person it stays well within the head of the protagonist. Therefore I've failed to establish the facts in the case–when did Charlie die? Of what? Was he and his wife on the best of terms? If I had established some of these things, I think it would point the way for me.

Thanks for opening the door. I think I should go back a bit before going ahead.

[Star_Anise]

You've made me aware of something ... although this introduction is written third-person it stays well within the head of the protagonist. Therefore I've failed to establish the facts in the case–when did Charlie die? Of what? Was he and his wife on the best of terms? If I had established some of these things, I think it would point the way for me.

Thanks for opening the door. I think I should go back a bit before going ahead.

No worries. Let me know how you get on with it.