The Tale Not Old As Time

“For those who crave a scandalous love story set in a fictional world, this book is for you. Please note that all names and places mentioned in this story are entirely fictional. This allows for complete creative freedom and ensures that the story is not tied to real-world events or people.”

One

Once upon a time when we were children, our world was a playground of endless possibilities. We were young and naive. We were consumed by the joy of toys, the thrill of games, and the excitement of exploring our surroundings. The complexities of adulthood seemed so distant, so irrelevant to our carefree existence. We never gave a second thought to the responsibilities that lay ahead, the pressures of work, the pressures of status in life, the insane headaches of bills to pay, the debts, the stress of commuting, or the anxiety of running late for work and the in-betweens. Our days were filled with laughter, imagination, and a sense of wonder that seemed to permeate every aspect of our lives.

But right now, it was the year 2023, Florence felt more lonely and more alone than ever. Florence clutched the glass of alcohol, its amber liquid swirling in her hand. Never before had she felt so isolated, so utterly alone in the world. The drink had become her solace, her crutch, a desperate attempt to maintain her sanity in the face of overwhelming despair. Her gaze was fixed on the rich, reddish-brown hue of the bourbon, as if seeking refuge within its depths. 

Every year, without fail, January would arrive, a cruel reminder of the past. While others greeted it with optimism, a fresh slate for new beginnings, Florence found herself dreading its arrival. For her, December and January were a painful reminder of loss, a time of year shrouded in sadness and melancholy.

Florence raised the glass to her lips, taking a deep, satisfying swig. She sighed heavily, her gaze wandering towards the window, where the world was painted in a beautiful serene sight at night. The bar was alive with the lively rhythms of jazz music, a backdrop to the chatter and laughter of other patrons enjoying their drinks to try and give themselves some warmth. 

But Florence remained aloof, her thoughts far removed from the bustling and joyous atmosphere.

“Tell me, my darling, what do you aspire to be when you grow up?” Melissa’s words echoed in her ear and Florence could see her mother’s ever beautiful smile that Florence loved so much.

“I want to be a famous singer just like Mommy!” Little Florence replied with a cheerful tone as her young and innocent self was sparkling with dreams of stardom and hope. 

But that hope was a far distant future now. Something unattainable after what Florence had been through. Her mother was a famous local singer who was loved by everyone due to her singing prowess and how she could gather the crowd to sing along with her. She had that charisma and Florence wanted to be just like her, a famous singer ever since she was a child. Her mom was her inspiration in her life. 

The cherished moments Florence shared with her mother, now felt like distant echoes ringing in her ears, as it was beginning to lose in the vast expanse of time. As the moments passed, her beautiful vision of her mom began to fade, like wisps of smoke slowly dissipating into the air. It was as if she was a ghost, gradually vanishing from her mind, leaving behind a lingering sense of loss and longing. 

Florence could hear her father’s voice echoing in her mind, as clear as if he were standing right behind her. “Look at my beautiful pianist! Smile for the camera, Flo!” His words were filled with a familiar, affectionate tone, a reminder of his lifelong passion for photography. It was a profession that defined him, a source of pride and joy. Their home was a testament to his artistry, adorned with countless photographs of family and their solo portraits, capturing precious moments in time.

She could almost see him there, his camera poised, a mischievous glint in his eye. He had always been the life of the party, a man with an infectious laugh and a knack for making others smile. His love for photography was more than just a hobby; it was a way of life, a means of preserving memories and sharing joy with the world.

As Florence recalled her father’s words, a bittersweet smile crept across her face. She closed her eyes, allowing the memories to wash over her. The image of her father, standing behind the piano, his camera aimed at her, filled her heart with a mixture of love and longing. It was a moment of pure happiness, a cherished memory that would forever remain etched in her mind.

Florence could hear her brother’s familiar whine, a sound that had been a constant fixture in their childhood home when she would be annoying him. “Mom! Flo is being annoying again!” Frederick’s words echoed in her mind, a reminder of the playful squabbles and sibling rivalry that had once characterized their relationship.

She could almost picture their younger selves, engaged in a heated debate over something trivial, their voices raised in frustration. Frederick, with his superior height and strength, would often emerge victorious, leaving Florence feeling both annoyed and outmatched. Yet, despite their frequent disagreements, there was an undeniable bond between them, a deep-rooted affection that transcended their petty squabbles.

As Florence recalled those childhood memories, a bittersweet smile crept across her face. She closed her eyes, allowing the warmth of nostalgia to wash over her. The image of her and Frederick, laughing together, playing together, and sometimes even fighting, filled her heart with a mixture of love and longing. It was a time of innocence and joy, a period of life that would forever hold a special place in her memory.

All a memory.