Sunday, April 28, 2013

Short story by Murray Pura

The Last Waltz by Murray Pura

Mitchell Davis lay in a field surrounded by many soldiers some wounded -some dying-some dead.
He knew from the way that he felt he was not dead but gravly wounded and his thoughts turned to home and his beautiful wife Charity, he thought of how they had married young and had two sons -of their home in Ga and the fields he had worked.  He prayed to God remembering the story of Hezekiah and how he had been given more time and how God had stopped the sun and time for him.  He prayed that HE would be given one more day to spend with his beautiful wife, he talked his troops into taking him with them on their trip to Ga and the next battle, though many thought he would never be able to make the trip.  He knew they would pass his home and wanted to beg a short stay there before returning to battle.

By God's Grace he made the trip and spent a beautiful day with his wife, cutting wood for her to have through the coming winter, bathing with her in the nearby creek, loving her as he had wanted to all the months  and years he had been gone.  They talked as only two can -that have been separated so long.  Charity fixed him food to nourish his body for the time he would have to leave again, she knew they only had today and he must leave by sunrise.

All during the day Charity kept thinking she would hear Mitchell behind her and turn -to find him not there but see him through the window, many times she felt his presence and turn to find emptiness.
They had a ball room in their huge home and that night they waltzed to a tune they heard in their hearts, knowing they would soon have to part again but thankful God had given him this time.  It was a magical enchanted evening with stars so bright and pure sweet love enveloped them...

Morning light came all too soon and Mitchell ate a quick breakfast and left on his horse, Macon, Charity watched him go then went back to the house to do her chores and carry on.

There were sounds of war from the nearby battles for days and when she looked out one day she saw a bloodied horse, Macon was standing in the drive, he kept looking around as if to find his master.   Running she through her arms around the huge horse then cried and cried as she felt in her heart that Mitchell was now gone.
 Suddenly she felt a prescence behind her, she walked home with her chin up-cleaned Macon up-fed him then walked to her home knowing that all would be OK and she would live alone remembering "The Last Waltz" ......their last day.

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