Paper Envelope
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She was in the road, waiting behind one of the massive firetrucks when Chief approached her, manila envelope in hand. Before she was able to say a word, he stooped down, wrapped his long left arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug.
Most days, she'd squirm and make a joke, disengage and separate, put some comforting distance between. Not today. Today, she needed a hug. She laid her head against his black and grey turnout coat and smiled as his team bustled around her. Chief was okay. This man had come through when she needed, her hired arsonist for the day.
He handed her the envelope as he released her from his grip. "Grabbed these during our last walk-through." She undid the string of the clasp, revealing a mass of papers within. "Sorry. We couldn't take more. With the house as it is...these were in the back closet." Chief looked at her as she removed a photo from within, sympathy and understanding in his expression as tears welled up and she bit her lip. "We're ready to get started now."
In a daze, she nodded slowly, watching him walk away, through the weeds, up the crumbling steps of the porch, and into the house. The envelope and photo in her hand were forgotten for the moment as she waited. Behind her, neighbors milled about, indulging their curiosity from a safe distance while the firemen manned their stations.
Her sister was laughing with her husband, deciding where they would go for lunch after the fire. Her mother, over near the water truck, was engaged with one couple, talking over the sale of the property once the wretched home had been removed. She couldn't blame them, they simply wanted to be done with this whole ordeal. Bad memories making them eager to never travel out here again. She knew they were hurting, had given each hugs of her own when she arrived. But, since then, both had avoided her, and each other.
Still though, she thought, finally looking down to the photo in her hand. It wasn't all bad. Why didn't they want to remember the good things? Like this paper in her hand. The people in the photo seemed happy. Two adults and a teen, watching a young girl feed a deer. She didn't have this in her memory. Had never seen this picture before. Chief was going to get another hug when this was done.
A whoop from her brother in law made her look up. Quickly, she returned the precious picture to the envelope and set it down. Pulling out her phone, she began recording, as promised. The moment the flare was lit in the back bedroom upstairs was captured, along with the billow of smoke as it poured out the the window.
The first flames were shooting up when Chief, the last to leave the house, stepped off of the porch. She stood, keeping her phone steady, recording as much as possible the inferno that engulfed her childhood home.
Through it all, her mind was on the paper envelope, wondering what else was hidden inside.
art and flair courtesy of @PegasusPhysics
Thank you for sharing this with me. I'm glad you have that photo.
Thank you so much, Omra! The fact that fire crew took the time to gather it (and a few other things) for my family meant the world to me.
For you:
Thank you also for the re-steem! 😃🤗
Holding on to the good memories is better than holding on to the bad ones. Let the bad memories burn. I hope there are more good things to come out of the envelope. : )
Resident cat here, delivering today's prompt after a few licks of milk: https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/day-209-5-minute-freewrite-wednesday-prompt-milk
HUGS! to my favorite resident cat! Thank you, Whatisnew! You have it exactly right. What good has ever come from dwelling on the bad memories? We should take the lessons they teach, and move on, as much as we can.
Thanks as well for the prompt! (I hope that your milk was tasty! 😉)
<3
💙 You too hon! (Zucchini?)
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