A supernatural thriller; for anyone who has ever loved someone, and can’t let go...
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Life Death And Everything In-between
Life Death & Everything In-between is an intergenerational story, its bittersweet romance entwines the relationships between three families.
Possibly the greatest adventure of all is falling in love.
As a handsome young man, in the picturesque town of Symonds
Yat James Hart kissed a practical stranger - their lips met and in that precise moment, he lost his heart: Rose Young lost hers... to one another.
With the pending birth of twins, their adventurous journey would soon fall short, to tragedy. Not only did James loose a passionate once-in-a-lifetime truelove Rose Young to childbirth. James with his wife Rose; lost their firstborn, a loss that would alter his journey through life, and reshape it forever.
To the tragedies that befell him, the loss of his wife, his unborn daughter Nigella, James only wanted one thing, to reunite, with his soul mate.
Moreover, through all of these tragedies, the longing to be with the love of his life could not be. The devotion he felt for his grandchildren and the abiding love and responsibility formed a further barrier to him becoming one, once more with his wife. Despite the closeness of his grandchildren Issey and Jack, the longing and aching to be with Rose never left him.
Now, in his twilight years James Hart lends a necessary hand towards his daughter’s troubled marriage. With Isabel and her husband John Mitchell away in the west-end of London, James finds himself left with his grandchildren, Jack and Issey; a rambunctious five and eight year old. James Hart felt rejuvenated, bound by the unconditional love of his grandchildren; it is only now, surrounded by their love, that he has begun to grasp the true meaning of his life. Over time, James pondered over the decisions he made in life, and realised the path he chose was the right one. Nevertheless, there comes a time when you cannot hold on to the ones you love, even the loved ones that have journeyed beyond your reach.
Even though James Hart was an elderly 78, his eyes still captured a youthful flame that burnt bright… two orbs, striking shades of grass green. On demand, they became as vivid as newly found emeralds; twinkling with every mischievous smile. Deep-set yet charismatic; Hart’s eyes like precious gems would often captivate an audience gazing upon them through sallow leathery skin, his gnarled complexion softly masked by a bedraggled smoky-grey beard; Hart’s long whiskers fell fluidly into a soft grey coverlet that lay across his chest, the unkempt bulk of the beard lightly stirred with every single breath.
Using his much-loved walking stick James Hart ambled through the coniferous Forest. Pushing through the last of the thicket he lightly brushed himself down in the manner of a Gentleman; a delicate scent of pine wafted into the clearing following Hart toward Jackdaws Quarry; pulling his frayed sweater closer he paused looking toward an overcast sky. Hart huffed blighting the appalling weather, shaking his cane toward the heavens with immense displeasure.
Hart walked a little further easing himself down onto a hefty chunk of Red Sandstone, its beautiful plateau with spectacular views of the Wye Valley never ceased to take his breath away.
The anvil-shaped Sandstone had an advantage point of overlooking the lowest point of the Silurian limestone Quarry… their place, their special place.
The natural bevel-shaped seating accommodated James for over forty years; he’d often used the polished stone for respite, it was the same chunk of Red Sandstone James had laid Rose Hart to rest: he was meticulous, being faithful to his wife’s exact wishes… James carefully poured her ashes on top of the Sandstone next to himself; the relocated ashes formed neatly into a mound. For a while, he watched a gentle breeze swirl around the earthly pyramid he’d created… for a short time the two elements toyed with one another, the breeze swirled around the five pounds of ash, softly teasing it, his wife little by little ebbed away. It was that day in particular he felt close to Rose, her presence has never been as strong before, or since that day.
They both sat together for one last time, watching the sunrise. He stayed with her, sitting close to her ashes all that day, feeling the westerly wind gently take Rose on her final journey.
He felt a gentle breeze brush across his face the moment he closed his eyes; the warm current of air wrapped around him almost like a delicate embrace whispering his name. It was at that exact moment he felt her caress for the very last time, his beautiful Red Rose turned to ash forever.
‘Absolutely loath heights,’ he said with dread toward the plummeting depth.
There was a definite empathy within his eyes the moment he tossed the single stemmed Rose over the edge,
‘The Earth is the Lords, and the fullness thereof. Another year apart has passed us by,’ he sighed, remembering her favourite psalm watching the Rose tumble into the early morning mist until it finally vanished, ‘happy anniversary my darling.’
The unsure gloom that plagued Hart’s mind disappeared the very instant the Rose left his fingertips.
‘Everything’s eventual,’ he said pausing to stand, ‘everything including you my love.’
There was an air of remoteness about him as he gazed across the early morning mist. Its bleakness lay motionless; stretching out along Symonds Yat… across the valley as far as the eye could see, the morning mist lay, like an enchanted Ocean. A small cluster of treetops caught his eye, Hart looked toward the remarkable green sails peering above the bluish mist almost like yachts on a millpond; they emerged above the mist rising tall out of the Oceanic haze; Hart imagined them to be in competition; racing out of the valley toward the sunrise, maybe toward a new beginning? He closed his eyes, his beautiful Rose Hart at the bow, smiling, beckoning.
A tide of loneliness swelled in his eyes, ‘Rose,’ he exhaled, ‘I miss you so—so much.’