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Short stories: Struggles in life

by Another E.A. Poe

Created on: May 03, 2008

As midnight strikes on an autumn night, the golden leaves float in the air before they gracefully touch the ground. The small, bare town of Windillwood was quiet. The wind whistled a tune while blowing past the trees that surrounded the town. The small wood that lay just outside the north part of town was quite eerie looking, especially at night. But deep inside the heart of the wood sits something that brightens the surrounding in its own discreet manner.


Meanwhile, on the other side of town, lays a boy who is making his way into the break of manhood. As he dreams, he waits for tomorrow. For tomorrow is what paves the way to his unknowing new path.

7am and Marcus is wide awake, spread across his bedsheets. He can hear his mother singing down the hall, probably in the kitchen preparing breakfast. What a beautiful voice she had. And a beautiful face to match. He could almost see his mother's beauty with each passing melody. And just the sight of her could warm almost any heart on the coldest of nights.
Marcus climbed out of bed. His dark brown hair all ruffled and untamed. His black and blue plaid pajama pants went far past his ankles and his white t-shirt hung loosely around him. His clothes seemed to have outgrown him. It wasn't so much that he was a small man. No, he was quite tall. But his weight seemed to compare equal to that of a 10 year old boy so that the clothing of a 19 year old, such as himself, hung loosely over every limb of his body. He made his way towards the bedroom door and almost tripped over all the clutter that lie on the floor. Kicking the piles aside, he walked towards the music of an angel.
Making his way towards the kitchen Marcus greeted his mother with a light kiss on the forehead as she continued with her singing. Singing seemed to replace the very means of talking itself when it came to his mother. It was all she seemed to do. Marcus came to the conclusion that singing was her way of letting out her sorrow. Every since Papa had died, music seemed to be her only release. She would never talk about it. Just sing with her voice of the heavens. For the heavens.
Marcus sat down with his mother and they ate in silence. This became a daily routine for them both. Especially since Marcus just recently graduated from Windill High and now had his mornings free from his school and studies. Although he never really talked much with his mother, Marcus cherished every moment of her presence seeing as how she was now the only family he had left

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