Hello Goodbye

Life is all about the timing.

I fell in love over the course of a several hours last Saturday. I'd only intended to stay out a couple hours, as I was still processing my recent breakup. But then I met Alex. We ended up dancing and talking until dawn, bouncing from one club to the next around the city, and I decided that here, finally, was the love of my life.

It turns out he was pulling one last all-nighter before leaving for a new posting in Olive Branch, Mississippi.

Just as I was saying hello, he was saying goodbye.

After Summer Camp

We hugged our children when they stepped off the bus, but they looked at us with vacant eyes, and when they spoke, the music was missing. They didn’t know who we were, or what they were doing on this street where they’d grown up. We brought out the brownies they loved, but they said no, our precious fifth graders, and stacked their suitcases up like a funeral pyre, as if to set fire to their childhood. The bus driver stood on the corner, a new god, calling them back to their new life, while we were left to wave goodbye.

From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe

The Rotary Phone

The butter-yellow rotary phone was sitting on the carpet in the living room of the empty apartment. It’s cord and wires were disconnected and curled around its body.

David walked into the room. His eyes began to water as grief overcame him. He had not made it home for his grandmother’s funeral. He was not there for the disposition of the contents of her home, the home that was his refuge growing up. Now it was too late to say goodbye.

“I love you, gramma,” he whispered.

David bent over, picked up the phone, and quietly walked out the door.

From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius

Mayhem

The last time I saw Clara, she was by the door waving goodbye after our passionate kiss. I still smelled the scent of her flowery perfume.

I wrote as often as I could, but the mail was not reliable. I received a letter a few weeks ago that our son was born healthy and named Brian Joseph after my brother who died a war hero.

I didn't know when I’d see them. A loud noise awakened me from daydreaming, and I ran for cover.

The photo of my wife was destroyed in the mayhem when it dropped from my hands.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Kiss

I can hardly think of a better way to say goodbye.To the sun and the moon, the water and the clouds,I've always wanted to live on a planet where the sky was blue.

I can hardly think of a better way to say goodbye.The light of a star. The smell of a blooming fruit tree. The kiss of a bare human hand.To the fading flowers on a winter's night

I can hardly think of a better way to say goodbye.To be one last person who will fall in love.Because in death, she is beautiful.

From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Adrian’s Jog

Adrian jogged in the park, the autumn breeze against his face. He nodded his good morning to fellow joggers as he enjoyed the chirping birds.

When he finished his laps, he stopped at the breakfast truck and bought his usual cup of black coffee.

The owner handed Adrian his change. “Crisp morning.”

Adrian sipped his coffee before responding. “Yeah, sure is.”

He said goodbye and took a seat on the bench.

The park began to fill with dog owners taking their pets for morning walks and the cool air warmed.

Adrian relaxed and closed his eyes.

It began to rain.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

You Become The One They Leave Behind

Grandfather waved us goodbye in his distinctive style, up and down instead of side to side. As we drove off and he became smaller and further away, mother said ‘Poor old man.’ He was alone, and living the life he’d always lived - the life he wanted - but I understood her sentiment.

A generation on, and my father’s on his own. This time we’re separated by countries and we rarely get to wave.

It’s clear to me now that finally you become the one they leave behind. That’s the way it is. The way it has to be. And that’s alright.

From Guest Contributor David Dumouriez

Leaving Home

When he slammed the door, he did not say goodbye. He just left. He left the house, the street, the small town, all the narrow-mindedness he had endured for eighteen years. No one was going to tell him what to do or what to believe.

He boarded the train, and soon he was in boot camp. Then he was a full-fledged soldier. He had enough anger inside to slay the enemy. Before long he was on a troop ship, and then in the forests of France where he began to miss the town where he grew up.

It was 1942.

From Guest Contributor Anita G. Gorman

Three Hands

I was born with three hands, all roughly the same size. People often mention how lucky I am. To be able to wave hello, or goodbye, to three people at once. Or how nice it must be to applaud more than everyone else. But what they don’t understand is I only have two arms, two wrists. There is nothing for my third hand to connect to, so I carry it around everywhere I go. One hand is always busy holding my third hand, which leaves me with just my other hand, my poor other hand, doing everything on its own.

From Guest Contributor Jason Heroux

Tell Me Lies! The Truth Is Harsh. Give Me Hope While I’m Falling Apart.

He gazed at her, longingly, knowing that it would never be. His dream crashing down upon the floor. Broken words won’t help no more. Her mind was made. His heart--betrayed. He brushed her cheek: a simple good-bye. What more could be done? What more could he supply? He fell to his knees, “my sweet don’t leave!” But, she just left him there to grieve. He fell to the ground, in a sprawl, as the only sound he heard were high heels, echoing off the wall.

There is no time to sit and wait.

Take life’s hand and run with fate.

From Guest Contributor McKenzie A. Frey