Lily Hall

8 November 2017

Short Story

Every day she woke up early enough to hear the first chirps of the morning. She loved to

go outside with a hot cup of tea, before the fall morning dew dried, and watched the sun rise. She

grew fond of the morning chill and wrapped up in the blanket her mother knitted for her when

she was a sick child. As she closed her eyes she remembered the faint smile her father had as he

sung her a song he wrote as a child as she got ready for school, while her mother was packing

her lunch and humming to the beat. She sighed, despite her bad memory she never forgot her

father’s face, the curves, the slight facial hair he kept maintained but never well enough, and his

dark chocolate colored eyes that had crows feet on the outer sides. She missed her father as he

had been gone for about three years now, despite the rough times at the end, the smile from his

face never faded away as he was, even to the last breath. She then started singing the song, “Oh

if you get low, gotta rise back up, every little thing feeling slow caught up, oh darling don’t you

go, no, it’s about time, so-” , her face wrinkled up as she couldn’t remember the next verse. A

gust of wind distracted her from her thoughts and she looked around at the forest surrounding

her home. She realized that at least an hour or two had went by as the sun had finally gotten high

in the sky and she could hear some cars on the highway about a mile behind the thick brush and

the old oak trees. She whistled for her dog as she had not yet eaten breakfast and called for her to

come inside the small wooden cottage. She slid open the french doors with the familiar smell of

vanilla and pine hitting her nose and the sound of the creaking wood floors as she walked over to

the dog food bag. “Jane!” she yelled once more before the dog slid to a stop in the kitchen.

“Good girl”, she said quietly as she scratched behind Jane’s ears. She walked over to the sink to
place her empty mug before heading upstairs to get ready for work. She then proceeded to

shower closing the bathroom door behind her. After getting out she took the clothes off the door

hanger and slipped into her white dress she had put there just the night before. The mirror was

fogged up from the abundant steam to which she began to wipe away. As she was putting the

toothpaste on the brush she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye with the hot, humid air

feeling a tad colder than a few seconds before. She made eye contact with a pair of sad, loving

eyes which she recognized before examining his facial features. “Dad?” she managed to get out,

he didn’t say anything. He just gave her a sad smile, she knew why. She knew she had been

isolating herself, not making any attempt to reach out to family or friends as she could not get

over his death. A tear ran down her face and she watched as the mirror begin to fog up again, she

let it. The mirror became fully covered and she slowly turned around, her father was nowhere to

be found. She left the bathroom and went to the phone, rapidly typing in numbers and listening

as the phone rang, “Hello” the voice said, she paused for a moment before responding,

“Mom…”.