Annie soaks up every word – #fridayfiction
As Annie is thinking, Ophelia moves to another story. This one is about the staircase leading to the loft.
“It took Edward three months to finish it,” she says. “Before we had the staircase I had to pull down those rickety attic steps to get up there.” She hesitates a moment then with a sad smile adds, “When I told Edward I didn’t feel safe going up and down those wobbly steps, he started building that staircase the very same week.”
“He certainly took good care of you, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did.” Ophelia gives a deep sigh; it is heavy with the weight of her memories. “After he was gone, I used to wish I’d died right alongside of him. Take me too, Lord, that’s what I used to pray. Without my Edward life just didn’t seem to be worth living.”
Annie is like a sponge, soaking up every word. She leans in, transfixed on the calm grey of Ophelia’s eyes. In them there is no look of pain; there is only a peaceful acceptance. A contentment Annie has seldom seen in her own eyes.