by J. L. Young
Bi-weekly writer's meeting prompt.
|I awoke and palmed for my glasses. Once they were found, I slipped them on and realized this place was unfamiliar to me. The sound of children at play came through the window. A fresh amalgam of smells, that could be best described as spring, blew into the room. I lowered my feet off the edge of the bed. Upon standing, my foot fell onto the edge of a strap. I stooped to retrieve it.
I brought it to my face. The scent of fine leather filled my nostrils, hoping to glean some clue of who owned it. A polished stainless steel heart dangled from the buckle. Engraved upon it was “Only yours.” With the collar, I walked cautiously through a doorway into the living room.
Soft carpet caressed my feet. A glass coffee table accented a sectional couch. On the wall above the couch was a painting I’ve seen before. On the opposite wall hung a television. I took a few more steps and my feet found the plastic feel of waxed hardwood. My thumb rubbed the dangling heart before I placed the collar on a table lit by the sunlight through a window.
A metal on wood sound at the door drew my attention. The door moved and revealed a dainty hand on the knob. Beneath dangled a heavy keychain from my favorite show. The door opened the rest of the way. A petite woman, who wore a dress with polka dots in the shape of skulls, and knee high combat boots appeared. She carried a pair of brown paper bags.
“What’s wrong, honey?” she looked as confused as I felt while lowering the bags to the coffee table.
“Um… you called me honey? Who are you? Where am I?” seeped from my mouth.
She blinked. Realization washed over her face. A flood of worry and sympathy entered her voice, “You had another seizure. You don’t remember me do you?”
I looked back to the keychain still pendulating under her hand. I shook my head as tears burned my nostrils as this lovely woman was clearly important to me.
She lifted my chin and an understanding whisper filled my ear, “I’m Honor, my love,” and gave me a light kiss. I blinked, wishing I could remember something, a glimmer, anything.
The butterflies beat their wings hard in my abdomen and chest. Bewildered, I lowered myself to the couch. Sympathy remained in her words,
“We had our anniversary last month and we moved here a couple months ago. I know everything. It doesn’t make me love you any less.”
I felt a weight slip from my shoulders as she sat beside me. I wanted to touch her smile to make it more tangible than sight could ever give. Honor held my hand. A smile crept onto my face as she kissed my fingertips.
“Rest,” she said as she slowly stood, “I’ll let the doctor know.” Honor collected the bags and stepped into the kitchen. When she noticed the collar on the table I could hear a smile in her voice, “You found it, I’ve been looking everywhere for it.” She slipped it around her neck and buckled it.