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Snap Fiction Responses | by shandrake | 2006-11-19 12:55:59 |
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Part 1 | by LeoHyuuga | 2006-03-13 11:16:09 |
| Part 2 |
by LeoHyuuga |
2006-03-13 11:17:08 |
The thought of his sister prompted Dylan to open the file cabinet instead. The top drawer was jammed, and Dylan yanked on it a few times before it opened with a piercing scrape of metal. The drawer was lighter than he expected when he opened it, and he was unsurprised to find it empty. The school must have taken the files back. He closed the drawer with some difficulty and opened the third drawer at the bottom, skipping the middle drawer. It would be empty too if the school had taken the files. The bottom drawer contained many of his father's personal files, and Dylan worried for a moment that the school might have taken those files by accident. The drawer opened easily, lighter than it normally was, but his father's personal files remained. Dylan rifled through the files, then grabbed one at random and pulled it out of the cabinet.
He carried the file in his left arm and walked to his father's desk. Pulling back the high-backed wheeled chair, he placed the folder on the table. The surface was covered with a large piece of glass, and his father's newspaper clippings, notes and other assorted pictures were placed underneath. Dylan glanced at the Snoopy comic strips in the lower right corner of the desk. They were his favourite when he was younger, and he had taken them from under the glass and made a copy of them in the photocopy machine. He thought he enlarged them to two hundred percent of the original size, but he had accidentally made two hundred copies of them instead. His father had given him a long and loud scolding, and then taught him about recycling. He sat in his father's chair for a moment, then stood up again, leaving a wet patch on the seat, and retrieved the folder from the table. He felt uncomfortable sitting in his father's chair, so he sat at his own desk instead on the cheap plastic stool his father had bought for him and his sister.
Dylan opened the folder and took a look at the contents. On the very first page there was a poem that his father had copied about a father and his son. Dylan read through it quickly, then flipped to the next page. Another poem, this time about the same father and his daughter. The poem on the third page was about a husband and wife in a loving relationship. Dylan smiled and cried as he read the poems. On the fourth page, he found poetry as well, but this time it was hand-written. His father used to guard the poems he wrote, refusing to let anyone see them until he was done writing them. The unfinished poem was about his family. Dylan read through a few verses, then nearly jumped when the telephone rang. A quick glance at his watch revealed the time to be past three in the morning. Dylan ignored the phone and continued flipping through the files, losing track of time as he smiled, laughed and cried at the words his father had written. The entire folder contained incomplete poems of his father's.
The sound of the knob being turned shocked Dylan. The door was locked, but the person began twisting the knob quickly like Dylan had done an hour earlier. The door unlocked, and Rachel came in, followed by their mother. They were both dry and Dylan guessed they had taken the car.
Dylan's mother hugged him and cried.
"How did you know I was here?" Dylan asked after his mother stepped back. "I didn't answer the phone."
"You ran away here once before a year ago," his mother said. "When Rachel said you weren't in bed, and we couldn't find you, we guessed you'd be here."
Dylan glanced at the file he had been reading and felt tears coming to his eyes.
"There's nothing else we can do," his mother said. "We'll have to be strong without him." She put her arm around her children. "Let's go back home and rest. The funeral is at noon today." |
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[ Reply ] |
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I like it. It's very touching. | by Miss L. Anyus | 2006-03-13 16:52:03 |
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