Vestige
Sundays might have congregations in the backyard. Old Don and Elliot might go looking at the fences today, where Don fires up the BBQ and Elliot mixes pancakes. All this might happen as the basement ink’s dried pigment meets mucus.
Look where Don’s heading.
The walls flanking the stairway to the underground were bare, but the dust particles on rough bricks shimmered. Near the ink pot, a decomposing paper was seen.
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14/03/1983
Dear Elliot,
I know you aren’t well without my blood. But I’m kind of running low. Mom says I’m getting skinny, but I won’t let you starve. Today, I cut Sarah’s leg and collected at least a litre.
Ellie, I didn’t kill your sister. She hanged herself.
I hope to come back before the blood curdles.
Take care,
Don K.
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The creases on Don’s face overlapped one another, and his eyebrows melted. The excess skin on his neck weighed upon his jawline. He placed the page on an intriguingly empty shelf amidst the mess. He went back looking for a grill grate.
Don gazed around. Every bit of intention for coming there faded. Burning memories don’t survive time though something that appeared indifferent from a wood plank did. Dust introduced by the unanticipated movements made a light trail to it, bright enough to grab Don’s attention.
Only the first page read, “Settling at Manim shall change everything.”
Don grabbed the ink pot from the front and found a corner where he could sit. He lowered himself down halfway and fell the other half. A splinter lay along the dust tracks, which tasted salty when bitten to make a sharp edge. He spat on the ink to dissolve the pigment and wrote on the pages delicately.
Her blood-dressed pancakes weren’t popular, so she dissolved Sarah’s blood in the batter. They stopped coming after they found out. Sundays got lonely, and she stored the rest in vials.
Don was a little sick that day. Elliot took out an old vial and invited Henry, Sarah’s son, the next Sunday. They were to remember his teenage mother, but sadly, Don didn’t live for it. Two pancakes were made that day—one for Elliot, the other for Henry.