Of Your Memory
(Lucian Darkcrowft sits in his study reading a book, not really paying much attention to the words that the author had so painstakingly combined amid covers. He is saved from further feigned reading by the entrance of his butler. He looks up and addresses the entry.)
Darkcrowft-Yes, Reed?
Reed-Sir, a Miss Black is waiting in the foray.
Darkcrowft-Really? Bring her here.
(The butler departs the company of his employer for a moment, returning a few seconds later with Deborah Black. She is an older woman who seemed to have aged very gracefully with very few lines countenancing her chocolate coated skin. Her dark hair is long with the occasional touch of gray. At first glance she would give anyone the impression of great looks in younger days. Her eyes reflect those of her sons, brown and filled with a depth that seems beyond words. She smiles slightly, causing him to smile as if he were a schoolboy. He hides it quickly, not quickly enough to unseen by the woman herself. She smiles wider at seeing this and she speaks.)
Deborah-(smiles) Hello Lucian. It’s good to see that in your old age you still do something as sweet as smile.
Darkcrowft-You’ve never accused me of being sweet in all the time you’ve known me. Except…
Deborah-…when I loved you.
Darkcrowft-I was gonna say when we were young…(shrugs, smiles slightly) but that’s true too. (offers a chair) Have a seat.
Deborah-OK.
(He seats himself on a couch just as Deborah sits close to him. His arm rests on the back of the chair just as Deborah rests dubiously close to being under it. All the same this is disregarded as he speaks to her in a conversational tone.)
Darkcrowft-So…what brings you here?
Deborah-It’s just that I haven’t seen you in a month or two. I asked T.J. had he seen you and he was vague…as always.
Darkcrowft-(laughs) That’s T.J. for you…he’s vague but brilliant…wise…loyal. Why didn’t you just come to Dirtyfoot’s. I’m usually there…or to the house. If I recall correctly you never had a problem finding it before. (winks)
Deborah-(smiles, blushes) Yeah…I could never forget that. But I didn’t come look for you because I have two sons to look out for…you do remember I have children, right?
Darkcrowft-(quietly) I do. The lyricist and the criminal…how are they?
Deborah-(snorts, smirks) The lyricist is fine. He’s a little…confused albeit weak under pressure but he has a good heart and is loyal to a fault.
Darkcrowft-A good heart, huh? He must have gotten it from his mother.
Deborah-(blushes again) Yeah. Joseph is…different. He’s passionate to a point of obsession and I often wonder if it will be his undoing…but he’s strong, calm, and something of a clown. (looks sideways at Darkcrowft) Kinda reminds me of his father, really.
Darkcrowft-Oh.
(Darkcrowft stands and leans against the mantelpiece, his back to Deborah. She stands and in a few strides she is at his back, her arms draped lovingly around him as she places her head on his shoulder, her cheek to his. She prepares to speak but he cuts her off before the words can escape.)
Darkcrowft-Don’t speak it, Deborah…please. Not again…
Deborah-Why not? You love me as much as love you…maybe more.
Darkcrowft-There is no question of that….(turns, hold her waist, looks in her eyes) I have loved you since I first met but I’m not the same person, Deborah…
Deborah-You sound the same…you feel the same…you even smell the same.
Darkcrowft-I could say the same of you…but…
Deborah-But what, Lucian?
Darkcrowft-You know why it can’t be…
Deborah-(as Darkcrowft) Your blood keeps our love from ever being…(in normal voice) I know, I know.
Darkcrowft-Just let me remain of your memory, my love…it’s for the best.
NOTE:If you haven't realized by now, I'm something of a storyteller.
I try not ramble, to go on and on...
Sometimes it's unavoidable if you're trying to get a point across, to convey that golden ideal to an audience. Most would argue that it's minutia and just to get to the point. A smaller contingent would...
Damn.
I'm rambling...
The snippet above deals with remembering someone important to you as they were, as they cannot rightly remember themselves given what they have become. A lot of people change for the better but another contingent of people change to something unrecognizable. I'm too afraid to be honest enough with myself to ponder which way I have gone in the grand scheme of things. All I ask is that whatever way this soul has gone I pray that I remain the same person...
in your memory
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