Sheets (2 page)

“I have been with you always because you never let me go.”

And with that, she tumbled into a tousled mess to the ground—so like her, the flair for the dramatic.

“
Oh, and don’t get paint on me.”

Then silence. Stillness.
He willed the sheet to move, speak, emit something, anything. But there was nothing more.

W
hen he had finished his painting project, he stepped back to admire his work for a moment, his mind full of thoughts, his body tired in that healthy way that tired can be. He washed the brushes, closed up the leftover paint in the can, washed his hands. He placed all the tools in the bucket, along with the rags to use another day for another project.

H
e folded the sheet, carefully end to end, then again and again, until it was a neat square. He walked it to his dresser and carefully laid it in the top drawer, next to some old photos of family and friends, the leash from his first dog, the baseball from his first college homerun, the cassette recorder with the tape still inside it. And he closed the drawer.

To
the support team at
thewordverve
:

Pam
for her amazing concept with the cover art.  We needed a hot sheet shot and she gave us one! 

And
editors
Billie
and
Deborah
for their encouragement and editorial expertise.

To the
college friend
who allowed me to use his idea to create this story.

To my
ancestors
who unwittingly passed along the creative spark that runs like a firecracker through my veins.

Author:
www.helenruby.com

Publisher:
www.thewordverve.com