This delightful and enchanting story was chosen to appear in Bright Light Multimedia's latest anthology,

“Speaking of Love”.

For your pleasure and perusal, we present an extract from ...

 A Present for Angelia

“I can’t remember, last I had a present,” Angelia said.

The old rocker wheezed on beneath her. Down the narrow road came a swirl of dust, twisting lazily in the hot August sun. Angelia tilted her head, thinking.

“I know there was something ...”

From across the road, far back beneath a horizontal tangle of hoary, old live oaks and eglantine, came the drawn-off cries of children. Angelia straightened and turned her deep-set eyes toward the sound. The rocker paused faintly.

“Well, I remember that day down in Rockville, you know when we all got sent on with Mr. Thomas to see the twilight dances. That was when he got the fever, you know. Of course, Misses Johnson always did say he weren’t doin’ himself no good at all, stepping down in them ditches with the field hands. I wasn’t so old then, but I know she was right that time. I know she was ...”

The rocker went steadily about its business now. Angelia’s hands returned unerringly to their work, lifting the tight bundle of sweet-grass from her lap and poking it swiftly about within the dark wine-shadowed cup of her palms. It whisked and shuttled away inside, imperceptible but for the plain sound it made, the smell like the whisper of sea air through long-ago gowns.

“They let us all see the dancing too, you know. All my sisters and me lined up against the wall of that old church like some kind of soldiers, waiting for some little thing to faint so we’d go up and catch her, take her away, out under the oaks, so no- one would see her be sick. Sometimes, I think I had a present then ...”

She lapsed abruptly into silence, but for the sound of her weaving. She stared distractedly into the puffing dust that blew lazily about her yard. Not far away, behind the screen of live oaks and eglantine, the children laughed at her.

Mrs. Johnson had made Angelia say it – "eglantine" – across the fine, iron-wood table, in drawn-out repetitions, until she’d gotten it right. That was the price, Angelia, to get out of the fields and into the house.

“But, now, I believe I had a present then,” Angelia said. “I believe I had a present from Misses Johnson, though I can’t say exactly what it was. Well, maybe ... may be I didn’t, after all.”

“Ms. Angelia?”

“Hmm.”

“It’s me, Ms. Angelia.”

“Oh yes, James. I’m sorry if I do wander off now and then.”

“That’s all right, Ms. Angelia,” James replied. He was a tall, elderly man in a tweed jacket and trousers, damp just about the heels. He sat, with some discomfort, on the edge of Angelia’s porch, nervously fingering a small nylon net by his side.

“I just came to bring you the shrimps,” he said. “I can be going now, if you like.”

The rocker quickened as Angelia’s gentle hands went back about their unseen work.

“No, no, don’t go, James. I’ve finally got someone here to talk to!”
 

The complete story can now be found in Bright Light Multimedia’s latest publication
Speaking of Love
- positive and uplifting short stories and poems about romance, marriage and true love -

Click here for more information 

Editor: "A Present for Angelia" is a wonderful story – in fact, we like it so much, we chose it to go into our book about the joys and wonder of love – “Speaking of Love”. If you know someone who enjoys feeling good all over, then this is the perfect present for them. Remember you deserve to feel happy too. Why not give yourself the gift that keeps on giving – “Speaking of Love”.
 

 
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