Welcome to my first ever Short-Story Saturday, in which I publish a short story of my own writing for your enjoyment. Here is the first one called Old Man and Mama Kaiser which I wrote about a year ago. Enjoy!
Old Man and Mama Kaiser
It was a cold, rainy, bleak mid-day as the citizens of the little town of Bear’s Bluff walked down Main Street towards the graveyard in the church yard. Old Man Kaiser, who had been known around town as being a burly man, with brown hair and a big temper, had finally kicked the bucket. His wife, lovingly known throughout the small town as Mama Kaiser and was Old Man Kaiser’s complete opposite, followed solemnly, dressed in clothes black as the tornados of the US Midwest, which almost made her blend into the rainy day. The only color she bore was that of her golden wedding ring. Two women clung to her arms, as if meaning to support her, but indeed it was she who was supporting them. The two spidery women were Nigella and Mora, the dead and his wife’s daughters. Both had been born into the dead of night, much like their father and would probably leave in the same manner their father did: at midnight, the darkest part of the night.
Perhaps it was because of this impact that night had on Old Man Kaiser that he fell in love with Mama Kaiser. She had been born in the middle of the day, with blond hair, pale skin and blue eyes as clear as crystals. While Old Man was more quiet and introverted, Mama was a bubbling, bouncing particle of walking sunshine. The saying goes that opposites attract and this statement was never truer than with the Kaiser couple, who were so very much in love that one often wondered if they weren’t of some other mythical race of legend.
It was of this love that the townsfolk were thinking of as the small parade made its way through the graveyard gate. They stood around the gravesite, Mama stepping away from her daughters to gently place a hand on the top of the coffin, as if to bid her beloved husband one last goodbye. Then in the blink of an eye, she was lying on the fresh grass, her husband’s heavy coffin crushing her. The front right pole bearer glanced around anxiously, glancing at his sweaty hands and wondering what in the world he had just done.
It was at that moment that Mora and Nigella glanced up, realizing that they no longer felt the pitter-patter of rain on their shoulders. The sun broke through the clouds, smiling its rays of light onto the stunned populace of Bear’s Bluff. Nigella glanced back down at her mother, whose face did not bear any semblance of pain, and saw a tiny twinkle of light beckoning her eye. It was her mother’s wedding ring, completely intact, as if somehow it had made itself void of the wreckage of her mother’s death. Mora picked up the ring and both sisters were content with their parents’ death. For what darkness hides, light illuminates and one cannot exist without the other.