Welcome to Calliope's Coffee House the proprietor of this establishment is Jacquie Reaville better known as The Book Imp.

When I started this place it was primarily for book reviews and thoughts on all things literary. Well the book reviews are still here, but somehow it's grown into a place for me and others to practice short fictional writing and of course a place where I can give my thoughts and opinions on virtually any subject that might take my fancy.

Hope you enjoy your visit.

Just to add that I welcome comments, the more the merrier. They don't even have to be related to books or writing just go wild (not too wild though).

Permissions are set so that even anonymous users can answer - but comment moderation is in effect which means I get to say yes or no to letting them appear here.

Saturday, June 7, 2008

A Beautiful Day (Calliope Experiment #3)

A Beautiful Day
Jacquie Reaville

When had the beach changed? When had it become so sad and lonely here? She remembered it so vividly. A happy place, children running, laughing, trying to skim pebbles onto the waves and squealing with delight as the white surf chased them back up towards the road.

She leant heavily on her stick, one gnarled hand clutching tightly to it, the other pulling at her coat. Cold. Why was she always so damned cold these days? She bowed her head, silver strands glittered as the breeze played with her soft curls.

There was a white rock among the various muted shades of grey and she smiled, surprised. Her face revealing the beauty, that had once been the talk of the village so many years ago.

“Mary!” Charlie called “Come on slow coach, I’ll race you to the end there by the pier”. The girl raised her head, shook her golden curls and stuck out her tongue “and why should I want to be racing on such a glorious day Charlie Morgan?” she called back “and especially with the likes of you” she added smirking.

“Oh the likes of me is it?” he said, “didn’t hear no ‘likes of you’ last night at the flicks now did we”. He began to walk towards her, his eyes fixed on hers as he came determinedly closer.

Mary yelped, turned tail and ran for the road, laughing, but Charlie was faster. He caught her hand and spun her around holding her in his arms and kissing her quickly on her upturned face. Mary smiled and slid her arms around his waist. Standing on the rocks they held each other, so glad to be alive and together.

“What are they doing?” Mary asked, looking towards a group of children moving rocks. Charlie shrugged but he caught Mary’s hand and they walked towards the group.

There was a heated discussion going on “A wall is boring” was one of the comments the couple heard the most as they stopped nearby.

“Well now” he said “all those white rocks you could build a sculpture maybe”.

Interested faces turned to look. “What kind Mr Morgan?” said one, “How Mr Morgan?” said another.

Mary moved closer “What about a sea monster?” she said.

The children rushed about the beach finding all the white rocks they could. Mary sat and watched, laughing at their antics, and Charlie explained the way the stones should be laid.

Finally, there it was, a long white snake, undulating away from the water. The children stood with hands on hips imitating Charlie as he nodded his head in satisfaction. “Good job!” he said.

He moved back to Mary and offered her his hand, pulling her back to her feet. They began to head back the way they had come, arm in arm, Mary’s head against his shoulder. “Bye Mr Morgan, Mrs Morgan!”

“Mrs Morgan!, Oh there you are” Dilly came bustling along the beach toward her. Mary blinked, and sighed. She pulled her coat tightly around her once more and turned to face her carer. “I just came for a walk” she said.

As she moved from the beach, Dilly’s arm around her shoulders, she heard again the sounds of children calling, and the gruff jovial voice of her husband answering them.

“It’s a beautiful day Dilly” she said.

“Not too cold for you?”

“No, not cold at all” Mary replied, smiling.

© J L Reaville - 2008

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About Me

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Birmingham, West Midlands, United Kingdom
My name is Jac, Jacquie, Jacquelynn, TheBookImp or just Imp. I live in the UK. I love to read as is probably obvious. I also like to write. Anything else you would like to know just ask.

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The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova

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