Sunday, September 19, 2010

262. A slow waltz to the end of time

For once their children were speechless. The evening when Andrew gathered them around the table and told them that he and Alison were separating, they all just sat there affixed, uncomprehending. He wanted them to yabber, to argue, to remonstrate with him. Not this stunned silence. He actually wanted them to side with him, to console him, to understand. After all, he was the aggrieved party.

Well, not really aggrieved. That would suppose that she had done him some great wrong, some infidelity. But that was not the case. As the children soon unravelled, Alison had gone in search of her lost self.

That was nearly forty years ago now. Andrew had driven over to Adelaide to see if there was anything that he could do to help her find what was missing. And, of course, there was. And, together, they pieced the puzzle together in a more fitting way.


jabblog said...

Your story fits the photo perfectly. Those two are wonderfully in step with each other.

Joan Elizabeth said...

A warm hearted story ... I like it.