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Untitled Part I (standard:drama, 0 words) | |||
Author: Truly Life | Added: Jul 12 2001 | Views/Reads: 3615/2306 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
Because my story tends to weave itself as I write, I don't have a title yet, but I'm sure you understand. :) Part II is coming soon. Neither you, nor I, know where this is headed, but I do my best writing that way. So Enjoy! | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story and go eat dinner. As I entered the kitchen the aroma of warm biscuits and chicken casserole overwhelmed me. Our kitchen was large and different from the rest of the house. It was an addition and had all the conveniences a gourmet cook like my momma could ever dream of. The walls were painted a very happy shade of yellow and bright white light radiated from the large country light fixture my mom had picked out while she was in her third pregnancy. Mother herself was a warm person with an inviting smile and a warm set of arms to hug with. Her shoulder length brown hair was usually tied back with a ribbon and fell upon her shoulders like an angel's breath on the sea. Her sun worn skin accented her gentle smile and manner. You could tell she was a born and raised farm girl and I always hoped I would be the same way when I grow up and manage a family of my own. She was so beautiful that night. The light that reflected in her brown flecked eyes found a place in my heart that I never forgot. "Your favorite," she said. "Thanks Mom," I replied as I walked around the kitchen island and hugged her tightly around her waist. Mother was not a large woman at all. She had never been a large woman even when she was pregnant with me and my siblings. By contrast, my father was gargantuan. Dad was a huge man just over six and a half feet tall. His neck looked like the trunk of a rather sizable tree. Despite his size, he was a gentle man who would never hurt me or his family. Dad had also grown up on a farm and it was echoed through his body shape. He was a very muscular man who was accustomed to the hard labor he endured. He had a sharp square jaw that at times reminded me of a tan colored slab of granite. He was a perfect farmer and I couldn't have asked for a more perfect family or a more perfect life. In my naive world of Bishop County, Georgia I only saw people through the eyes of my life and circumstances. If I only knew how my paradigm was about to change... Tweet
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