Sylvia possessed an inexplicable beauty that left most people groping for words, though she wore it with silent grace. She would never be at the top of anyone’s scintillating guest list, but she didn’t care. She loved this place. Trinity was home, now and forever.
She had seen many drifters pass through Florida, enough to keep her feet firmly planted. She would never have the stuff of an itinerant, but that was fine by her. The most she dared hope was that someday they would scatter her ashes here.
Some referred to her as an old soul and she rather liked it. Sylvia found the description rather fitting. She spoke knowledgeably on a large range of topics, which needed to be addressed for betterment of the town, and always did so with elegance.
The townsfolk of Trinity had come to rely on her slightly severe manner, commanding presence and intuitive nature in lieu of her abiding love for Trinity and irreplaceable knowledge of it.
They basked in the benefits she brought about for them, and she was everyone’s immediate source when needed for a mother’s solace. Spinster or not, she served a purpose that was bigger than herself, and found immense satisfaction in so doing.
Not one of them could discern how sitting alone in the evening mist, beneath an aged, knotted, old willow tree could be the solace she sought. Nevertheless, she was a fixture there every evening.
The evenings were still and quiet, with dew settling silently around her, and therein she realized the shelter of a grandparent; old and bent with unparalleled longevity, knotted and battered, yet strong and pliable protection that swaddled her in its consistence; just as darkness enveloped the evening, affording it solace, protection and succor.
Sylvia and her beloved town would rest easy, sleeping soundly in the arms of security and certainty which was home. This town, these people and her commitment to cradle them, this was her salvation.
© January 14, 2018 at 10:25 PM
Tags: shortstuffsunday, fiction, flashfiction, Trinity, Florida, Cryptkeeper, historian, mother