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Reason First Tales: The Daily Reminder

What room will be most remembered?

By Skyler SaundersPublished 2 years ago 3 min read
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Reason First Tales: The Daily Reminder
Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash

The water trickled. All of the little rivulets running along the path held the sun’s power. Golden reflections from the sun allowed for Kinner Buckley to see and fill the jugs from the spring.

She walked back to the car carrying the two gallon jugs, sealed with a metal clasp.

She drove back to her home in Claymont, Delaware.

In the kitchen, her husband ate a ham and cheese sandwich with extra mustard.

“Home, Dear,” Kinner said.

“Hi,” Jed Buckley replied.

“Are you going to eat just that? I was going to make dinner.”

“Are you still going to that spring? You’re pushing eighty!” Jed exclaimed, a tinge of sentiment and agitation bubbled up in his voice.

“I’ve still got life in me. I can, so I do,” Kinner retorted.

“I’m going to go up to the Lodge. You go ahead and fix dinner. I was just having this little snack. I’ll eat it after I come back.”

Kinner sighed. “Enjoy your time, Dear,” Kinner said with deep reservation.

Buckley stood and kissed his wife. He grabbed his car key and his hat and exited out the back door. Kinner took the two gallon jugs and placed them on the table. She took smaller jars and made them into bottles. There was a knocking. Kinner raised her head. She looked up and didn’t say a word. She kept filling the glass jars.

In time, she had enough spring water to last her for the rest of July and August. With all of her works, she was proudest of this. She wiped little droplets that had overflown past the jars. A sense of care went into every motion. Kinner felt the satisfaction of knowing that she could find the cleanest, clearest water right next to her house.

A plan for meatloaf, white mashed potatoes, and broccoli arranged in her head. She set about fixing the meal. A certainty lay in her mind that she could do this. Nevermind her seventy plus years on the Earth. Kinner had been doing this for decades. What should stop her now?

Recipes resided in her head. She knew just the right amount of seasoning for each portion of the meal. She mashed the potatoes herself and steamed the broccoli. Ground turkey sat in the refrigerator like a pink parked car in the container. As Kinner pulled the meat out of its package, she added bread crumbs, diced onions and green peppers. A creaking noise followed as she poured in the worcestershire sauce. Another creak. Kinner could hear the noises and her suspicion elevated.

The television in the other room broadcast a game show where applause sounded like thunder. Kinner looked up at the ceiling.

She then walked into the family room where the television sat. As she reached out to turn down the volume, she felt cold steel slice into her back then a burning sensation.

Kinner spun around and saw a burly man in a mask. He was stodgy, but balanced. It seemed like he would wobble but he remained firm. He slashed again and again. As precious lifeblood flowed from her neck and torso, Kinner reached for the phone but the man blocked her intentions. He stood her up and sliced once more: the coup de grâce.

The man stole nothing and left no evidence for the authorities to discover his vicious plot. As Kinner layid dead, the television switched to a commercial about shampoo. Her eyes continued to peer directly at the screen.

When Buckley arrived home, and turned on the lights in the family room, he saw his wife in a pool of blood. He sobbed. The laughter in the background from the TV seemed to mock his anguish. Buckley switched off the set, and cradled his wife in his arms.

The police arrived and recorded his story. Buckley was not a suspect initially. Nor was he a person of interest.

“What time did you get home from the Lodge, Mr. Buckley?” Detective Syd Bassett asked.

“It must have been around nine,” he answered.

“We’re sorry for your loss, sir,” Detective Finlay Nolan said. After personnel retrieved Kinner’s body, and the detectives had left, Buckley commenced cleaning up the stains on the floor. The same stains marred his soul.

fact or fiction
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About the Creator

Skyler Saunders

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