Posted by: DIYwriting | February 14, 2022

From the Grave

As soon as Nathan went indoors he was completely out of his natural habitat.  I always found it to be kind of funny, but also endearing he couldn’t find his way around a house.  Especially a kitchen.  The first time I went over, I wasn’t surprised to find his entire house was blue.  Blue dishes, blue couch, blue recliner.  Everything. I wondered if he had been brought up in a house entirely of males. 

As he slowly allowed me into his life, I tried to make subtle changes to his decorating scheme of ‘I have these extra pillows (that aren’t blue) would you like them?’ or the casual ‘My friend decided these (brand new) towels weren’t going to work in her bathroom, would you like them?’ Even though I thought it was charming he spent so much time outside, as time went on, I became less enthralled to have to cook and clean everything for him.  

If Nathan ever caught onto my tactics, he didn’t let me know. I never had the opportunity to find out. Taylor swooped in and took him off my hands.  She seemed to come out of nowhere, from nowhere, and Nathan disappeared faster than his new towels.  I didn’t want to bring up old news, but I really didn’t know why I hadn’t been expecting her.  He had always talked about Taylor in the past tense, but I should have known his sister would come back.  I just didn’t know it was from the grave. 


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