Just a little inspired thought....

My fingertips squeaked across the rubber of the parka before I knew what was happening. In my mind I was back to when I first met him and I remembered how he smiled at me when I rushed to hug him at the airport. I gripped the parka whiteknuckled and glared at the flannel lining in it. I had sewn it one night out of sheer inspiration and it helped him better than I could had ever hoped. I pulled the parka up to my face unconsciously smelling it. It was wet, but his scent lingered in the wet flannel. Almost like taking a breath the tears came and I started to sob. The man that had handed me Mike's parka sat across from me stone-faced. "Ma'am, is that his raincoat?"

I sobbed and nodded. I couldn't speak, I could hardly breathe. He had gone out to get eggs butter and milk for cookies I wanted to bake. I should have gone because he doesn't even like cookies. "Where is he?" I squeaked words, finally. The man's face contorted a little i could tell there was an inner struggle battling for the right words. "He's dead isn't he?" The man opened his palms, but said nothing. I knew. He had been missing for two weeks, but in my heart of hearts I knew he was dead. I buried my face in his coat again and breathed what was left of my love. The last thing he had come in contact with, but for some odd reason I stopped and dropped the coat like it was hot. "H-how did he die?"

"Ma'am the cause of death is unknown at this point, we found the body only two hours ago."

"'The Body'?! 'The Body'?! He is a man and he does have a name, I might add!" The stone-faced man's expression never wavered. "It's Michael." My voice broke when I said his name. The raincoat lay crumpled at my feet and I realized my slippers were soaked. I bent to pick the coat up, but stopped and instead I scooted the coat to 'stone-face' with my foot. He glanced down at it then up at me again. "This may be evidence that can help find my husband's murder. There could be fingerprints left on it." Yeah, mine, I thought.

"Ma'am we don't know..."

"My husband is dead. He went out to the grocery store. If he had died naturally it wouldn't have taken two weeks to find him." My voice was oddly calm. "Please take his raincoat and find his killer...please." The detective called his partner over and the younger man picked up the coat with gloves on and put it in a black trashbag.

"Ma'am we'll let you know if anything..."

"Yes, I know." I interrupted him and my head began to swim. I wanted them to leave. I needed to be alone with my thoughts and my memories. They tried to stall, but I finally got them to leave.

As soon as the door closed I collapsed, falling to my knees and pressing my forehead to the door. I was 24 again standing in the designated dressing room at the church we were getting married in. I remembered being alone before the mirror getting dressed. Something old on my finger in the shape of my grandmother's ring. Something new draped over the back of the chair in the shape of my wedding gown. Something borrowed in my hair in the form of rhinestone barrettes. Something blue in the form of a set of matching bra and panties in the prettiest lace I could find. That moment I stood before the mirror with no care in the world. I was three hours away from marrying the most wonderful man in the world.

I closed my eyes and pressed my hands to the door. I was back in the dressing room eating a Hershey Kiss and sliding the garter up my thigh, also blue. I remembered the sound of the knock and the way it made me jump. I choked on the kiss and coughed as I opened the door deftly making sure it blocked my body from view. Mike grinned at me and cocked his head to the side. "Are you decent?" I coughed again and he rushed in to my rescue, but I wasn't in danger of choking to death. When he knew I was alright he closed the door with a mischievous smile.

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, Mike." He pressed a finger to my lips and kissed me softly. We lived one of my fantasies that day. We made love in a church.


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I have more to this story, but I am too lazy to post it now biggrin



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~Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible.~ T.E.Lawrence
~These posts are for entertainment purposes only. Thank you.~ by D.A.N.
~Murder one I didn't know what I did
I figured it out by murder two
Murder three I stopped feeling ashamed
This is me I'm going for you~ by: dwim