Novels2Search
The Invisible String
Chapter 1 - The Writer

Chapter 1 - The Writer

“Hey Mom! I’m turning 25 today. It has also been 25 years since you left for a better place. Don’t worry, Dad’s doing fine. I hope you loved your favourite strawberry cake! Dad and I did our best to replicate your treasured masterpiece. It’s sweet, savoury, fun-loving and full of love like you.”

I really miss you, Mom. I really ...

No. I need to get a hold of myself.

I have to.

Smile.

That’s it.

... I can’t.

“Sorry Mom, 25 years have passed but...I still wish you were right here with us. Today, I’m reminded of the Invisible String you always told Dad about. It connects us in places we cannot see or feel. It’s a string that death cannot separate. I decided to name her Syndesi. I want Syndesi to be able to live a life of her own, free from troubles of the world...”

.

.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

.

“Phew! It always feels great to be able to just let it out. The words that I can’t say, my pen will do it for me.”

He spun his fountain pen around his thumb. Paper smudged with ink. Laying gracefully in the centre of his wooden desk. A plate laid quietly to the right of his journal. A half-eaten chocolate cake and a burnt candle.

His focus redirected to his right hand under the lamp. The battle scars of ink carved into his ring finger after every writing.

He leaned back on his chair. Fingers interlaced with his hands behind his head. He looked at the ceiling with eyes of a little boy. Reminiscent of his childhood memories. His words. A tinge of sorrow and solemn.

“I know it reached her. Even if she’s not here. She always listens to what I have to say. Always.”

Fully extending his arms, he felt the pull of his shoulder blades as his hands drew a heart shape.

“1:45am huh? Guess I’m missing the 2 o’clock mark today.”

As he reached out his hand to switch off the lamp, he saw the white plate from the corner of his eye. He held the plate up and smiled. Paused for a moment to breathe in the sweet fragrance as it seeped into his soul.

The strike of the analog clock snapped him back into reality and he placed the cake in the mini fridge.

He switched off the lights and slammed on the bed like a panda. A ray of light from the living room crept into the darkness through the gap beneath the door.

“Dad’s awake too, huh? Guess we aren’t that different after all.”

Normally, he would have coerced his Dad to sleep early. But not today.

Today was special.

The chocolate-flavoured incense soothed his heart. He closed his heavy eyelids and fell asleep to the lullaby of the ticking clock.