Day Thirty-One

Thirty-One, A Novel

Day One
Day Two  
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six
Day Seven
Day Eight
Day Nine
Day Ten
Day Eleven
Day Twelve
Day Thirteen
Day Fourteen
Day Fifteen
Day Sixteen
Day Seventeen
Day Eighteen
Day Nineteen
Day Twenty
Day Twenty-One
Day Twenty-Two
Day Twenty-Three
Day Twenty-Four
Day Twenty-Five
Day Twenty-Six
Day Twenty-Seven
Day Twenty-Eight
Day Twenty-Nine
Day Thirty
Each short chapter is posted in daily order on wordsbymo.blogspot.com

Day Thirty-One, Wednesday

Morgan stood at the front window, her afternoon coffee cup wrapped snugly in her hands. October thirty-first.  The house across the street was quiet, empty, closed. It would have been a bustle of activity tonight. But they were gone, the house, deserted. Joey nuzzled at her feet.

Thirty-one days ago she stood here, wondered what it would take to make life different, full, rather than quiet and empty. Nothing earth-shattering had happened. No cataclysmic events. But she was different. 

Her pretty journal sat on the coffee table. She sat down on the couch, picked it up with the pen next to it. Joey leaned against her knee, looked up at her. “Hey girl,” she said as she scratched her forehead. She wrote.

I am different.

Thirty-one days ago I wondered how I would survive this month. The discouragement, the alone, the quiet was overwhelming.

I have survived. I have changed. I have stepped out, and I am alive.

Never, would I have suspected that my new friends would be in their nineties, in an old folk’s home, and that I don’t even think of it as an old folk’s home. I think of it as their home, because they are there.

Never would I have suspected that a neighbor family would draw me in so closely. And leave me such a gift, this puppy at my feet.

Surprising, how my home, my life, has filled with life. Fresh foods, flowers, and now a puppy.

Amazing to me, my days are full and happy (Well, not today. Missing Nancy and her busy household terribly).

I have a future.

I am not alone.

What I thought was the end, a period, an exclamation point of finality, was a pause, a deep breath, a page turned, a big step into a new chapter of my on-going story. 

You know how you strike a match, and there is a pause, a waiting, a moment before it flickers and sparks? You wonder if it took, or if you need to strike it again. Then, it flames up and catches you by surprise. I feel the flicker, the spark. Surprised by the warmth of the flame.

Morgan set down the pen. She was busy, she thought, but not for the sake of being busy. Busy because life was full and exciting. Her life had more than a spark. It had light.

“Joey,” she said, “Let’s go for a walk.”