Kate Goodheart
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Stories (2)
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Andre
Among so many soldiers, he had expected songs and laughter and the noise of sportive fighting to come in through the window, but the night had been so quiet. Nothing broke his solitude in the little bedroom, and he was alone with his thoughts. His jailers had left paper, quill, ink, and plenty of candles; before dawn, the letter-writing was done. He had little to say, finally, and few loved ones to write anyway. The army had been his life, his passion.
By Kate Goodheart5 years ago in Serve
The Duel
Even in the very early hours of the morning, the heat was oppressive. My windows and curtains were drawn against the night air and the fevers it brought. A candle lit my writing desk and I looked down at the finished letter there. There were several others, finished and sealed in a stack, but this last one had hurt the most to write. Several years before, I had cause to write a similar letter, but it never seemed to get easier. My dear Theodosia, the only thing it would pain me to leave behind, and my greatest pride. My head ached as I sanded the letter, folded and sealed it. My hands went calmly through the familiar motions, long-fingered and deft. I checked my watch, holding the face near the candle to see the gold hands. The portraits of Theo and her mother regarded each other on its face. The faith that had so consoled my wife in her last painful months did nothing for me despite all her wishes. I reached out for faith and found empty resignation. Three hours until dawn.
By Kate Goodheart5 years ago in Serve
