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The Story:
Pies were her favorite dessert to bake. She almost loved the art of making them more than eating them. Almost. The sweet smell of sugar encrusted cherries being delicately toasted to perfection filled her entire house, forcing her to practice being patient.
Had her husband not perished in the mining accident the previous year, he would be filling her home with laughter and music from his guitar while she knitted and waited on the oven to ding. But silence is all that filled her home now. Silence and the smell of cherry pie, his favorite.
She sat on the couch in the living room, hands folded in her lap. The last knitting project she had started lay unfinished in a chair by the window where she would sit and listen to Glen. Maybe it was just the memories she was recalling as her eyes toured the artifacts in the room, but for the first time in nearly a year, she felt the presence of her husband.
The oven timer dinged. She shook off the feeling and went to retrieve her cherry pie creation. As she placed it on the countertop, a shadow of movement outside the kitchen window caught her eye. It happened so fast that she wasn’t certain she really saw anything. After checking to make sure nothing was outside the window, she headed back to the living room to wait for the pie to cool.
When she entered the living room, she was stopped dead in her tracks by Glen, who was standing by the couch.
“It’s okay, Elizabeth. It’s really me.”
“Glen! You’re… How can you be here?”
“We didn’t die in that accident. But there’s no time for that right now. We have to leave. They’re coming.”
“Who’s coming? Glen, please…”
“Later, Elizabeth. I promise.”
He grabbed her, making time for a kiss that showed her how much he had missed her. Taking her hand, he ran toward the front door but suddenly stopped.
“Wait!”
He ran into the kitchen and emerged back into the living room with the cherry pie.
“Okay, now, let’s go,” he said with a grin.
Think this story should become a book or a short film? Let me know in the comments below!