Write at the Merge – Snowfall and Secrets

Tara was stubborn. So very stubborn that even the fat, wet snowflakes that had begun to blanket her shoulders and sting her nose didn’t stir her to move. She was determined to discover some truths today and if she became a living snowman – woman – in the process; then that was fine by her.

One benefit the snow, she thought as she licked a flake from her lip, was how it seemed to illuminate the field in front of her. Field, right. Who was she kidding? She was standing in the middle of a cemetery. She snorted at her own delusion, chided herself for always romantizing everything. She was in a damn cemetery trying to discover who was leaving flowers at her mother’s gravesite. This was not romantic; it was creepy and borderline illegal. She was certain there were laws about lurking in a cemetery after dark.

Tara flattened herself against a large obelisk as headlights slowly crossed over snow and headstone, creating a diamond effect that momentarily held her gaze. It was beautiful and tragic at once. Glittery ice crystals playing on the surface of new fallen snow was the beautiful part. Freezing your ass off on a wild goose chase was decidedly tragic. But she had to know. In the last nine months since her mother’s passing, a dozen yellow roses had been delicately placed upon the hard granite headstone. They weren’t just materializing there on their own; someone was doing it. Tara was going to find out.

A large, dark SUV slowly cut through the snow pushing drifts to each side with its large wheels. Slowly the vehicle made the semi-circle pass towards the corner where generations of her family had been laid to rest. Tara felt her breath hitch in her chest. She was on the verge of discovery; a deep hidden secret about to be revealed. Breath would come later; she needed to know now.

The lights cut and the darkness momentarily blinded her so that when the figure exited, Tara could not plainly see the man. Once her eyes adjusted once again to the twilight, she observed a tall, well-built man with very large bundle of yellow held in his fist. He pulled the collar of his wool coat tightly around his neck and looked in Tara’s direction, his eyes seemingly locked on her. Surely, he couldn’t see her; she was completely hidden behind the monument. There was just no way. Yet there he stood; frozen in time, looking straight at her.

For reasons she could not fathom, Tara stepped out from behind the granite and faced her mother’s visitor. It was difficult to see his features clearly through the snowfall but soon recognition settled over her and she approached the man. No fear shown on her face; no cowardice, no hesitation. She stopped no further than a few inches away from the stranger and looked into sparkling blue eyes.

It was like looking in the mirror. At last she had found her father.

Advertisements

11 responses to “Write at the Merge – Snowfall and Secrets

  1. If I were Tara, I would totally want to know who kept leaving flowers there, too. I’m so glad she stood her ground and found out for herself.

  2. And the plot thickens. Nicely done!
    Some concrit: “She was determined to discover some truths today. But she had to know. Tara was going to find out. she needed to know now.” In a piece this short, this is a bit repetitive. Just something to keep in mind if/when you revisit. With some restructuring, you’ll have a stronger scene.

    I like the twist and the idea of turning into a living snowman in the middle of the cemetery. Brilliant!

  3. Exciting development! Sounds like that ending is really just the start of the story here. Nice choice of sensory details here; the feeling of being out in a snowfall came through really clearly.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s