Genevieve is a decisive woman who doesn’t have time for the timid. But she’s been married to Gerard, a most timid soul, for fifteen years. How?
At the start of the pandemic, Genevieve determined that each morning would begin with three brisk circuits of the pond. Gerard dutifully rose at 7 am, had a cup of black coffee — he’d have liked cream but, well — and joined his darling who strode ahead, never glancing over.
Gerard adored his Genevieve. Did she adore Gerard? He was confident that she did regardless of her lack of affectionate gestures or the whispers of their “friends”. They had many such friends who gossiped and backstabbed and knew without thinking which fork to use for which course at the finest restaurants.
To a person, these so-called friends were absolutely convinced that Genevieve — or The White Witch of Narnia behind her back— was going to instigate an affair with one of them. There had even been an office pool some years back. It’s long been abandoned.
Because Genevieve does adore her timid, fearsomely intelligent Gerard. Is she impatient with his dithering? Absolutely. But she’d be lost without him.
By July, as the numbers of infections fell and stayed fallen, Genevieve upped the morning trips to six. Then in September to eight. As October waned and the numbers began to rise again, Genevieve was ready to suggest adding two more rounds to the daily ordeal. It was a sharply beautiful morning and she turned to address the faithful Gerard. Mildly he turned to face her and was confused by her bizarre behavior.
“Gerard! There is a crow on your head!”
Genevieve was shocked into silence. She stood staring at the crow which stared back.
“Has it always been there? Every morning?”
“Oh, yes, dear.”
“You never mentioned it.”
“You never looked over and it didn’t seem important.”
“Didn’t seem important?”
“Does it bother you?”
“So, since March that crow has been sitting on your head every morning?”
“I can’t say for sure it’s been the same crow, to be honest”, Gerard dropped his voice.
Genevieve fell onto a nearby bench. She rubbed her eyes and looked up at her Gerard. And his crow. The crow looked back impassively and Gerard with great confusion.
“What day is it?” Genevieve was abrupt. And worried.
“Today, of course. It’s always today.”
Genevieve tries to remember. All the briskly walked trips around the pond blur together. Some minor detail starts to rise.
“Were you sick?” She pauses. “Were…we sick?”
“Oh, yes. Very sick.” Gerard tilts his head and the crow flaps its wings to steady itself. “Don’t you remember?”
“But. But we’re ok now?”
“Of course, dear. I mean we did die and all, but we’re all right now.”
Then from the branches of the overhanging willow, another crow appears. She stiffens and then allows Gerard to take her hand.
“I guess we are.” She slowly rises and they resume their circuit of the pond, crows on both their heads.
© Remington Write 2020. All Rights Reserved.
In August 2020, AleXander Hirka set himself the challenge of creating a daily digital collage based on an image and a concept. The image is that of the antique Omega watch that belonged to his Mom and the concept is Time. In September 2020, the Anomalous Duo is challenging themselves to write a short piece of fiction for each collage — the Our Hours project.
This, at last, is the final story in the project. Whewwwwww!