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- Herausgeber: BookRix
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
How will you be remembered, by the people you love, when you are gone? Did you do right by them? Did you provide them with the kind of life they deserved? How many lives did you touch, that you did not know about? This is what goes through the mind of a man who sits waiting, after a long life, as Death slowly approaches. "Icy Fingers" is a little taste of a collection of short stories that I have been working on, inspired by quote: "The examined life is not worth living." Hope you enjoy.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015
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Icy Fingers
As all my work, this is for Ilene, Danielle, and Jordan Friedman. And is dedicated to the loving memory of my parents William and Lillian Friedman BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 MunichIcy Fingers
Death was near. He could feel the icy fingers take hold of his heart. Nearly ninety, he was not grieving. No. Death came as a welcome friend. Why, then, should Death’s fingers freeze his heart?
He had no complaints, but he had doubts. Had his life mattered?
Painfully shy, he had been always kept to himself. His shyness was often seen as aloofness or anti-social. It had always been difficult--nearly impossible--for him to forge close friendships. At best he had acquaintances. He had never been intimate with anyone--except Marguerite.
Had he given Marguerite the kind of life she deserved?
Marguerite had been a beautiful girl. Petite, with long auburn hair. Her blue-gray eyes seemed to pierce deep into the soul of any boy who looked into them--and he was no exception.
When they were in high school, all the jocks wanted her, but she was attracted to him, the school loner. She was attracted by a brooding darkness that she had told him seemed to emanate from his very soul, and to be reflected in his sombre eyes.
He always considered her out of his league, so he kept his distance. It came as a complete shock to him when she approached him that day in the school library.
Years after they were married, she admitted to him that she had carefully planned out that approach. She had seen him sitting alone, as usual. She quietly slipped into the chair facing him, waiting--hoping--for him to notice her. When he didn’t look up, and it became obvious that he would not notice her, she gave a cough. That did not break his concentration. She coughed again. She knew he was shy, so, when he still didn’t acknowledge her, she took a more aggressive approach. She placed here hand on his paper.
