Waking the Dead
Part Three
Part Three
Marcus stood just below the mantel. Though the polished reminder of his friend was inches from his head, he couldn't bring himself to turn and look at it. Whatever was inside wasn't the girl he was meant to wake. Julia was a vibrant, vivacious, full-figured woman. That thing on the mantel was just an ashtray.
He reached into his coat pocket, running his fingers over the thin stock of the index cards he'd slipped inside. The cards were meant to express what Julia had meant to him. Marcus hated every word of it. To him the cards were as void of life as the urn on the mantel. They could say anything he wanted them to but it wasn't enough. The card about meeting Julia his second year of college didn't really capture the way her laugh had been so infectious. Marcus could write volumes about the first time he tasted her banana bread pudding, but it wouldn't convey the way the smell of it from the oven made your head spin. He could fill twenty cards with how her humor and her cooking had got him through the lean years of his illness, but it wouldn't dull the pain.
Marcus pulled the cards from his coat and shuffled them nervously. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Amy approaching. She gently touched his arm.
"It's time."
He found a smile for her. Maybe between the two of them they'd find Julia's strength.
He reached into his coat pocket, running his fingers over the thin stock of the index cards he'd slipped inside. The cards were meant to express what Julia had meant to him. Marcus hated every word of it. To him the cards were as void of life as the urn on the mantel. They could say anything he wanted them to but it wasn't enough. The card about meeting Julia his second year of college didn't really capture the way her laugh had been so infectious. Marcus could write volumes about the first time he tasted her banana bread pudding, but it wouldn't convey the way the smell of it from the oven made your head spin. He could fill twenty cards with how her humor and her cooking had got him through the lean years of his illness, but it wouldn't dull the pain.
Marcus pulled the cards from his coat and shuffled them nervously. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Amy approaching. She gently touched his arm.
"It's time."
He found a smile for her. Maybe between the two of them they'd find Julia's strength.
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