When Morning Comes
Part of the Paranormal Series
Copyright 2012 Rome
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The old lady felt a certain uneasiness looking at the ceiling fan. She could see it was just following its normal humdrum of swaggering a little to the right and sometimes to the left but she couldn't help thinking its fan blades were making its rotations in the most precarious way. It was the heavy kind you know, the type you would find in the 1970s with the oversized blades that had seen better years before but was now taking the characteristic yellowed and rusted flavor on its blades.
She smiled a little, surrendering quite easily to the feeling of lightness that came to brew within her. She knew no one would understand the feeling of loneliness and pain of abandonment that had come to reside within her these last few weeks. Yet, it was the ugly old fan above that subdued her, sometimes humming into her a kind of serene persistence that made her feel a little less pensive than she was just a couple of weeks ago. The sounds were what dispelled her sense of loss, her moroseness as she reflected upon the terrible emptiness that had come to be.