Thursday, October 28, 2010
My Dearest Julia
My Dearest Julia,
November 29th, 1858 was a cruel day. The first snows heralding a long and lonely winter danced across the landscape, unencumbered by patches of blue sky that dared to push through the gray. The landscape, while pastoral most of the year, was now colourless. Winters icy grip tightened on the fields; choking the life out of even the heartiest gourds. Abandonment.
The whiteness of December would bring the preparations of that most festive of celebrations; Christmas! But not this year. The very best of woods piled high for yuletide logs would be cut for a very different purpose this year. Oh, how I detest the drone of death prayers and lamentations. But this day shall see naught but sorrow. My begging of God, and subsequent cursing have brought me only sorrow. For Julia, my beloved Julia is no more.
To forsake my eternal soul, for just one loving last embrace would be a pittance. I am lost. Will time remember our great love? Or shall we fall; forgotten lovers in a forgotten world. It’s too much for one heart to bear. Forgive me darling Julia, but the pistol lies loaded and charged before me. Soon my love, we will be together once more. When I am gone and winters grasp gives way to green pastures, only memories will remain, and the broken dreams of lives once lived.
Julia’s gravestone and other haunting stories lay at Magpie Tales