Coming out of the closet

Oh, waxing nostalgic Literati!

Debi Swim has sent us another entry for our contest You Didn’t Write That.  Top shelf on our closet at The Word (our menu bar) there is a shoebox that says “Contests”.  Take it down and sort through it until you find the rules and parameters for this contest, and pen a few words of your own.  In the meantime, her is Debi’s discovery from her own closet.

Love Letters

by Debbie Boone–oops!  DEBI SWIM!

Marla, tears streaming, looked up as her father walked in. “I didn’t mean to pry. I was cleaning out the closet, thought it would help. These letters… you loved her very much, Daddy.”   He bent, picked one up, slowly opened it and read.  His eyes widened as he said “Marla, I didn’t write this.”


“What do you mean you didn’t write that?” she whispered, the implications stunning her. His face was ashen and tears filled his eyes. “I did love her… all my heart… Oh, God, how could I have been so blind?  Marla, don’t you recognize the handwriting?”


She looked again and in astonishment said, “It’s Mom’s! What does it mean?”  “It means,” he said, “that I am a jerk. I should have written those letters. Oh, Marla. I should have written those letters!”


And, not for the feint of heart, open THIS closet door!




9 thoughts on “Coming out of the closet

  1. Chalice Divine says:

    Heartbreaking moments… this is a stunning scene, and one that communicates all the missed chances we all pass by in life. if you love someone, go straight forth this instance and grapple them into a helpless armlock, stare them straight in the eye, and profess your undying gratitude for thier presence in your life. Then write two chapters and call them in the morning:)

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