Sunday, October 19, 2014

.

This week our words at The Sunday Whirl are...









...and this our picture prompt at Magpie Tales









Things not said

Every year he went. Every year he sat there beside his mother’s grave. And every year his guilt grew. For she was taken too soon and he had done nothing to prevent it. But could he have stopped it?  He knew it would happen, so surely it would have whatever action he took. Yet still he wondered if he could have pointed the finger of fate in a different direction. For he was a seer. Since childhood he had kept his gift a secret, if a gift it was. It now seemed more of a curse. He had told a school friend about it once, but his friend had told him he was crazy. Even today he could still hear his mocking laughter. He even mentioned it to his priest, but instead of simply telling him he was imagining things the priest told him that he should forever keep it a secret for it could do more harm than good. So he never mentioned it again. Not even to his wife, not to his son. He remained a martyr, a prisoner in his own mind, knowing about things before they happened but not telling a soul even when he knew he should. And with every passing year he would steel his resolve.
     Usually the things he knew about were minor matters within his family. But on one occasion he foresaw something terrible which was about to happen to a complete stranger in the street, yet he did nothing. As she passed him he saw something shine as if it was trying to catch his eye. He knew, but he just stood there as someone appeared from the shadow of a building and grabbed the stranger and ripped a diamond ring from her finger.
     It was soon after that he had his dreadful premonition about his Mother. Yet he did nothing. He warned nobody. And as he sat again at her graveside, his mind filled with remorse and self-reproach.
     In the breeze he thought he heard his name. He looked around. Nothing, nobody. Then a muffled whispering. Words. He could just make them out. ‘Son’ the distant voice murmured. ‘I know that you foresaw my fate for I share your gift. Has it ever occurred to you that you never know not what is about happen to you? That we share, for I was not aware how I would meet my end, nor that it would happen when I was so young. Right now I could warn you of something that will befall you very soon. Should I tell you? Yes, but like you I’ll keep it hidden within. Make peace with your maker while you can my son’ With that the voice drifted away.
     It happened the next day. Only one person foresaw the terrible event. His son. But his son had said nothing. 



12 comments:

  1. What a poisoned chalice! My guess is that it was not a gift but a curse as their foresight was unalterable. We can always rely on you to write som fabulous tales Keith.

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  2. If your words can't change the future, perhaps it's best to stay silent. What a burden, though!

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  3. very well told- but what a fate to have that second sight.

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  4. That's a heavy weight to carry... Great story, Keith.

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  5. Well it is close to Halloween…a little bit scary?

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  6. An inheritance you would not want to receive that's for sure

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  7. Brilliant story.. I liked the ending very much.

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  8. Interesting, that little twist at the end. Enjoyed this story!

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  9. Some things are better left unsaid , my head hurts ...cheers mate

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  10. Perfectly chilling for the season...

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