Life can sometimes get in the way. Over the past month, I have had several pillars flare, stealing my time. As a result, I had to pull back and focus only on the stories for my patrons. In fact, I think I forgot to post the results of the genre poll. Sometimes there are far too many things to do and never enough time to complete them. Let me sum it up real quick. The genres that topped the poll were drama, science fiction, and suspense. As always, I’ll start at the top of the list. So let’s delve into this month’s drama.
Some places collect more than dust as the years tick past. Every scuffed floorboard, faded curtain, and weathered seat carries traces of those who once filled the structure with life. When that lifeblood disappears from a building, the memories tied to it begin to fade, leaving behind little more than reminders of what once filled its halls.
Nathan has spent years away from a theater that once played an important role in his life. With the aging venue facing an uncertain future, he’s been given an opportunity to return, walk its aisles, and take the stage again. However, his memories of the building’s grandeur don’t mesh with the proof standing before his eyes.
In this tale, an old theater gives Nathan an opportunity to revisit a chapter he thought he’d left behind. As familiar sights and people surround him, he’ll have to discover what remains after decades away and whether returning can offer anything more than another glimpse into the past.
Excerpt of The Final Farewell
Nathan walked through the rows of the theater, letting his fingers trace the tops of the chairs hugging the aisle. When he neared the weathered stage, he rested his delicate fingers on the worn wood and sighed. After several moments, he climbed onto the stage and hurried to the door behind the curtains. As he pushed it, the hinges groaned in protest.
When it stopped moving, the familiar scent of timber, faded velvet, and dust enveloped him. His eyes moistened as the corners of his mouth tugged toward his ears. He stepped through the opening and stared at the room where musicians or actors would wait for their cue. His head dropped as he wiped his eyes.
He exhaled and turned around to study the empty theater. Sunlight sliced through the windows. As the theater’s bell rang, a dozen people entered and resumed retrieving everything not bolted down. While Nathan watched the workers’ methodical movements, a feminine silhouette sauntered through the main doors.
When the woman walked out of the sunlight, she inclined her head and offered a wide smile to Nathan. “You finally came.”
Nathan’s head shook back and forth as he dropped to the platform’s edge, letting his feet dangle. He clapped his hands as their gazes locked together. “I did, Clara.”
Her smile curled as she sat beside him before handing him a violin case. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“I heard they’re tearing it down,” Nathan said, unlatching the case. He lifted the lid, and a low whistle sliced through the theater. He closed it as his gaze whipped to her. “Isn’t this reserved for the first chair?”
“Yes, and it is.” She pointed at the workers. “The committee convinced the council to allow one last performance before the wrecking balls arrive.”
Nathan slid the violin onto Clara’s lap as a shudder ran down his spine. “Were they hoping that inviting a retiree would galvanize the community, or be the final nail in the coffin?”
She forced the violin back into Nathan’s hands. Then she turned his face toward her. “They invited everyone.”
“They couldn’t do that.”
Clara shook her head and tapped her palm against his shoulder. “They sent invitations to everyone they could find.”
With a somber nod, Nathan ran his fingertips across the floorboards and choked down a wry laugh. “When was the last time the venue refurbished this hall?”
“The committee planned to have it refurbished just before the council announced its closure.”
Another awkward chuckle slipped from Nathan’s quavering throat. “And with the pending demolition, why bother squandering money?”
“Of course,” Clara said, tracing a deep divot in the plank between them. “The countless rehearsals held within this hall have no sway over the council. All they see is the dwindling audience.”
Nathan rose and walked to the middle of the platform, clutching the violin to his chest. “I never thought I’d stand here again.”
“You made certain of that,” Clara said, joining him as she laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Do you think the rehearsals will go well?” Nathan lifted the case as he stared into her eyes. “Considering you’re giving this to me.”
“If you hadn’t left, you would have received it long ago.” Clara gripped his shoulder as she turned him toward the chairs arrayed before them. “We’ll mesh before we have to play.”
If you enjoyed this excerpt and would like to help shape future exclusives, become a patron and join me on this journey.
For as little as $2 a month, you’ll unlock the conclusion of this story, gain access to the full back catalogue, and even help guide my future stories by selecting the genres I explore.