Sunday, April 19, 2009

Their silent language

This weeks prompt on Sunday Scribblings is one word Language. I'm away from home and using a different computer, so please excuse any mistakes! I don't alway have that excuse, so Im going to make the most of it this time.
They spoke a different language, at least in the usual sence of the word. Yet when Mary wrote poetry he felt the passion in her soul. Always the storyteller, Paul held her transfixed with tales of journeys imagined, adventures in faraway places and people he'd never met.
When he laughed she laughed, when he cried she cried.
With with a gesture, a move of their hands or an expression on their face, they spoke unspoken words.
They led solitary lives. There were few visitors. People from the council who were paid to care. I suppose they had relations, they must have done, but they seemed to have been forgotten. There was one elderly lady who dropped in occasionally often with a bunch of wiltng flowers or something in the bottom of a supermarket bag.
One night an ambulance arrived. Not with sirens and lights. It was in no rush. No one even noticed.
A few days later a herse pulled up outside th house. A gentleman in carrying a top hat walked towards the front door, head bowed and wearing a proffesional sombre expression n his weary face. Others, similarly dressed leaned on the herse smoking cigarettes and discussing last nights football results. Mary emerged from the house.
Everyone assumed Paul's funeral would be a quiet affair. But they were wrong. A considerable number of people, presumably long lost relations appeared at the church.
The little house had never seen so many visitors. If they had ben expecting a lavish wake then they were to be disappointed. But they were'nt there for a glass of sherry and a sandwich. It was Paul's will they were interested in for it seems that he had been a man of not inconsiderable wealth. But they weren't expecting what came next. Mary spoke.

They thought that Paul and Mary never spoke.They were right of course, they didn't. When they married they vowed to share everything, and that they did, right down to Paul's inability to utter a word. She announced to startled crowd that they were to get none of his money. I know it sounds something of a cliche but Paul did in fact leave most of his money to the cat's home, his final farewell joke.
What Mary said that day I'll never know, but when the relations left it was they that were speechless! I'm told by the priest who was present at the time that she finished with a flourish of her hands, then looked up to the ceiling and laughed. And she laughed and she laughed. She was still laughing as the relations left and then it was they who were speechless.
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12 comments:

  1. I hope he'd made sure Mary had enough wherewithall to live on, when he gaily left his stache to the moggies! Talk about I'm all right Jack, pull up the rowboat...

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  2. good for him - let's all hope that Mary's life will continue to be a happy one!

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  3. Hi Keith, have a wonderful holiday - you lucky sod! (only joking, you deserve it) Good twist at the end of the story!

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  4. Well this one impressed me I err well never mind!

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  5. hi keith... where are u? hope it's wonderful and fun!
    I enjoyed your story!

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  6. the holiday's doing you good. lovely story!

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  7. Hope you're having an awesome holiday! Great music over hear!! Such a sad story that happens all too often!!

    Hugs Giggles

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  8. This was a fantastic piece, glad you shared it.

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  9. Loved the post and such lovely thoughts

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  10. Great story! Good for Paul and Mary, getting the last laugh!

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