In The Little Things

[Dennyraiiris 13]

Denny Akuman passed quietly at her husband’s grave beneath a quiet sky, her youngest son beside her. Her hands smelled faintly of stray foxes and sweet berry pie. In her final breaths, she dreamed of Aaron’s arms — safe and warm as ever — holding her close as they laughed about all the stories he’d missed.

 

She was already boasting about her children, bragging about how brilliant they had become, how fiercely they lived, how beautifully they carried their name. Her final act was one of grace: leaving herself behind in the little things.

 

You can find her in the quiet places — in the stray foxes with a berry in their mouth, and in the gentle snowflakes that fall on the mountains.

And the world kept spinning, a little quieter than before.

[HandsomeFloppa 722]

Spoiler

OOC note: This is amazing writing, without kidding. You've achieved more in 3 paragraphs than some writers do in whole novels. Good job, I sincerely commend you!

 

[Fawnytheturtle 865]

When Savannah heard the news, she light a candle and set it on a small table in her room "Sorry I never met her" sighs as she glanced at her three year old daughter moving around "Or met your grandchildren, least I hope you met the other three" hums a moment as she carefully scooped her daughter up "Maybe your papa or uncle will tell you stories about her someday" she kissed her daughter's head and went out to check on her other children

[Jayphynph 279]

Daniel Andres von Rhoswald, Denny's younger son and namesake, gently closed his mother's eyelids as he felt the pulse fade from her wrists. WIth trembling hands, he removed her cloak, using it cover her face. Daniel was on his knees as he softly wept, the tears falling from his eyes mixing with the rain falling from the heavens which now housed his mother.

 

Soon, he'd carry her body alone back to the city for cremation. She'd be buried in the graveyard which was home to his father, the husband Denny had not seen in 26 years. In the coming days, he'd spot her in the little things that popped up during his busy days. In the taste of berries, the content sounds of the sleeping foxes that now inhabit his home. 

 

At least she didn't die alone. At least she's with father now...