Step inside the past with a new Vintage Daze Short Story, To Miss Gail Reynolds. This snippet is written for Tuesday Tales, where a group of authors write to a word or picture prompt each week. This week we’re writing to the prompt ‘scout.’
Enjoy the snippet here, then go check out the other delightful tales you’ll find at Tuesday Tales.
Gail hadn’t even read to the bottom of the first page when a persistent knocking at her bedroom door was followed by Martha’s whiny voice. “You got a letter, didn’t you? What’s your sweetie got to say? Full of sweet nothings?”
“None of your business Miss Nosey-pants.”
“Can I read it too?”
“No! You cannot! Stop being such an annoying little sister.”
Martha opened the door and stuck her head in, sticking out a tongue in retort. “And you stop being such a Big-Pants big sister.”
When Gail started to rise from her perch on the side of the bed, Martha slammed the door shut and ran off, her footsteps stomping down the hallway.
Gail sighed and stuck the letter back in the envelope. She tucked it back in her pocket and eased out of her room, checking the hallway carefully for lurking little sisters. If she was going to have any peace to read George’s letter in peace, she’d need to scout out a nice private place where she could peruse his penned words without the annoying interference of a younger sibling.
Fortunately, while the days were cool, their October was still mild enough to take a walk without freezing. She strolled towards the tree lined path that led to the back side of the property. She enjoyed the way the sunlight danced through the semi-bare branches.
This area of north Texas didn’t have the tall piney woods of east Texas, but this small patch of pines and cedars created enough of a grove that one could almost feel that they were in the midst of a great forest. The lyrical songs drifting from the branches serenaded her. At the height of their cacophony, Gail stood for a moment, closed her eyes and threw her head back, simply listening to the various melodies surrounding her.
After a time, she opened her eyes and retrieved the letter from the depths of her pocket.
Spying a fallen tree trunk, she settled down on the rough bark seat and read the letter quickly. Then, she turned back to the first page and began re-reading – slowly and treasuring each line. She laughed aloud at George’s recount of his earliest years, beginning with a birth he certainly couldn’t recall, but sure created an imagery as if he could.
At the end, his last paragraph switched from humor to sweet sentiment and she sighed at the written declaration of his love.
Darling, I’d certainly give a lot to be there in Munday with you right now. Do you know what I’d do? First, I’d hold you close to me for a moment, kiss you, and then turn my ear to hear you whisper, “I love you”. (My eyes would already have told you of my love for you.) Then I’d ask you to play and sing ‘Holy City’ for me. It has been so long since I’ve heard any good music. I miss it greatly. Finally, we’d go for a long walk, or drive. Doesn’t it sound wonderful, dearest? I think I’ll retire now and dream that this wish came true tonight.
Check out the other delightful tales you’ll find at Tuesday Tales.