Getting out of bed to investigate, I donned my robe and slippers and walked quietly downstairs.
I heard someone whispering in the basement. I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. The soft whispers were soothing, not threatening.
I crept softly down the stairs towards the sound, wanting to be a part of it, wanting to be included in the intimacy.
A soft warm glow spilled from the basement door. Dust particles danced and floated in the light. It made me giggle like a child.
The whispering stopped.
I froze, hardly daring to breathe. For thirty seconds I heard nothing. I sat down on the stairs and waited.
“Please don’t go.” I said to myself.
As thought someone heard me, the whispering began again, interrupted only by childish laughter.
Who was it? Dare I move? I wanted to be part of the fun.
Inhaling deeply I closed my eyes.
It was the perfume my mother wore. Oh how I miss her. Now I knew I was dreaming. Silence covered the house like a blanket.
When I opened my eyes again, the glow had been replaced by darkness. I was alone. Sadly I padded back to my bedroom and slept.
This morning, as the light filtered through my blinds, I remembered the whispers. Had I been dreaming?
I had gone to bed worried and stressed, but this morning I was calm.
My arms full of laundry, I started my sunday morning routine. As I descended the stairs, into the basement, I was overwhelmed by a feeling of happiness and well-being. It was so powerful, I gasped. Tears filled my eyes when I saw little sprays of Lily of the Valley strewn on the floor.
It was the voice of my mother, she was all around me.
I hope you enjoyed my short story.
My first novel ‘Dead of July’ will be for sale on Amazon and in some Independent Book Stores before Christmas. Watch out for it!