By d
Date: 28 February 1998

tailbones and felt markers

She fumbles for the light switch to the basement.  Finding it, and finding the 
light burnt out, she carefully steps her way down the steep stairs.  Darkness 
surrounds her, and she's not very comforted by the fact that there's another 
light at the bottom.  Suddenly, the laws of physics win, and her socks slip 
off the hardwood steps.  

Thud.  Thud.  Thud. 

And she lands on her tailbone on the bottom landing.  Pain radiates up her back
and down her legs, but she ignores it.  Her goals are much too important to 
let a little stumble stop her. 

A deep breath, and she stands.  She flicks on the light, and begins to hunt 
for some boxes. Finding a few tucked behind an old dresser, she turns the light
off and walks back up the stairs, this time without falling.  

Another breath as she enters her bedroom.  No, her old bedroom, she reminds 
herself.  This place is only a shell of what it used to be.  Books are 
scattered on the floor, looking lost without the bookshelf that housed them 
for so many years.  

She sits, and begins organizing her belongings into neat piles, and then 
putting them in the boxes she risked her tailbone for.  The smell of black 
felt marker filters up to her nose as she labels each box carefully.  

Living room shelf.  Bathroom.  Linen closet.  

Finally, she has packed most of her things.  She looks around the room a bit, 
and realizes that it is definetly no longer home.  It doesn't even smell like 
home.  Another deep breath. 

His voice. She hears him calling from somewhere distant.  She opens the window,
and looks down to find him standing at the door, smiling up at her.  She 
smiles back. 

They work together, packing box after box into the moving truck he rented for 
her.  She worries about her china, warns him to be careful with her antique 
dresser, and holds her breath.  And then it happens.  

Drop.  Drop.  Drop.  

Her eyes spill over with tears, and she reaches for him.  He holds her, without 
saying a word.  And when her body finally stops shaking, she looks up at him.  
And she smiles. 

No words are spoken, no sighs exchanged.  But the love that creates fire in the 
air between them is enough for him to know.  Tears of joy.  The end of those 
long horrid months apart. 

The beginning.