The couch was covered in velvet, or had been once upon a time. His favorite spot had been worn away to a sheen, the velvet nap smoothed down to nothing. Next to the human-sized worn spot, there was a much smaller spot, cat sized, or perhaps that of a small dog. On the floor was a cat toy, feathered, with dangling items. But the man and his cat were nowhere to be seen. Long gone? Or newly? She couldn’t tell.
There was a funny smell coming from the back of the house, so she went to investigate. Of course. What would you have done? Look under the couch?
A little anxiously, although the funny smell didn’t seem like one of death, she quietly walked to the kitchen. She had forgotten how narrow the hall was. The velvet couch was new back then, shiny with hope, promise and warm and fuzzy feelings. The family would sit around the coffee table and play board games.
Good times, gone bad. It happens.
So back toward the kitchen she crept. The window was open, and on the sill sat the cat, gazing at her, not recognizing her. The animal could only have seen photos of her in its lifetime, it had been that long since she’d been home.
As she turned the corner, there he was! Her father, once a large and angry man, was sitting in a kitchen chair snapping beans. On his head was a colorful cap, crocheted by her mother long ago. She remembers the fight they had the night her mother gave it to him. He said no way he was going to wear that ugly thing. But he’d kept it.
He smiled at her. Dangling from his lips was a hand-rolled cigarette burning an unfamiliar substance.
Hi Dad.
“Hi Honey.”
What are you smoking?
"Poppy."
This is my entry to 's daily freewrite challenge. Today's prompt is velvet couch.
Ya gotta stop when the timer goes off, ya know? Sometimes that's a relief, but today I would like to know more about my characters. What do you think? Should I write more on this story?
When I was about ten, our front field was covered in gorgeous red poppies. We kids spent quite a bit of time happily playing in that field. The day after The Wizard of Oz came out in color, and those poppies blazed in the sun on screen putting the travelers to sleep, my mother went outside and pulled up all the beautiful poppies. I've longed to plant poppies ever since, and finally got some to flower in this new garden of mine. I hope to have a mini field of my own poppies someday. Sometimes it's good to go back.
I went out to dinner last night, and a local friend of mine, who had been my neighbor and friend when we were both kids, stood to motion me over to his large table. I next saw his sister, who had also been my childhood friend, still a perky red head, sitting there. I hadn't seen her in more than fifty years! But as lovely as it was to see her, I soon realized that two of their brothers were also there at the table, with wives, and babies, and young adult offspring. All four of my childhood neighbor-friends were at that table! A reunion!
This story is definitely influenced by my seeing all of them together again, and by my memories of those poppies. I miss those days, so long ago now! When I was young and vibrant, and the only thing I feared was my father.