Embers

He thinks he sees her again and he’s mesmerized by her perfection.

He watches her and remembers his perfect past; remembers what it was like for him all those many years ago when, returning home, he'd find the perfect woman there, smiling, standing beside the fireplace, close to the fire, waiting. He can’t always recall her name, but he remembers the fire and her smile; the perfectly soft glow, the welcoming warmth.

These are the benedictions of age, he thinks. Even when the fire burns low, there is memory and imagination; even in an empty room I am never alone.

From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette

Find Ron. Lavalette’s work at: EGGS OVER TOKYO

Lure Of The Surf

Chatter heightened in a resort restaurant.

“She’s a striking beauty,” someone blurted. “Out surfing every day,”another added. “Can’t miss.”

Ken placed lunch servings before the patrons, imagining running intosomeone like that.

When work ended, he headed for the beach. Between relationships,feeling low, he sought peace by the sea. Surfers dotted distantsparkling waters. Their faces couldn’t be distinguished.

Next day, Ken served the same group of diners who had talked sopassionately about the mystery woman.

“She’s walking ashore holding a surfboard,” someone shouted.

Everyone, including Ken, turned to look out the window.

It was his sister.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.