Winter by D.I. Jolly
Snowflakes drifted down past Christmas lights to settle on Morgan, a tall man with dark hair and eyes that still held the flicker of wildness from his youth. He sat on a park bench happily and patiently looking at the lights in the trees. He had hot coffee and a few fresh doughnuts, so didn’t mind waiting. That winter had been particularly cold but despite his tropical heritage he enjoyed the cold and had said for a long time that it helped quiet his mind. Eventually, a voice broke through the solitude. It was low and gentle and carried the weight of age and knowledge.
“Hello Morgan.”
He looked up at the old man standing in front of him and a sad smile touched his lips.
“Hello, … Grandfather.”
The older man pursed his lips and nodded.
“Oh … How long have you known?”
“If I’m perfectly honest, I was still doubting myself until right now.’
The old man smiled and sat down.
‘I’d had my suspicions for awhile now, but made my discovery about a week ago.”
“Alright.”
“I… I thought about contacting some of the others and telling them but… but I can also see why you would hide it from us.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Does anyone else know?”
The old man thought for a moment and let out a long breath.
“Not to my knowledge, a few have come close but for whatever reason not worked it out. Tell me though, what do you plan to do with this information?”
Morgan took a sip of his coffee and looked up focusing on the middle distance so that it felt more like he was rushing through the snow than it was falling on him.
“Actually, I was hoping there was something you’d be able to do for me. There is a rumour that says you’ve unlocked certain secrets about our family.”
The old man’s face which already carried with it the signs of time seemed to take on more age and fatigue but his voice stayed steady.
“Only if you’re sure this is the path you want to take. You can’t unmake this decision.”
Morgan levelled his gaze and the old man suddenly looking resolute.
“And that makes it the only true decision I could ever make.”
The old man took another long breath and gently rested his hand on the back of Morgan’s neck a wave of Goosebumps ran over his whole body.
“D…does it hurt?”
The old man smiled.
“No.”
Is this an excerpt of your next novel? Who do I have to bribe to get the next chapter?
Not the next one, but possibly an up and coming piece of work. The poem Addiction is as well. The plan in my head is a collection of stories like that that as a whole tell a single story. As for who you need to bribe… me, the answer is me.