Page 35 - HEF Pen & Ink 2020

ROSE COLORED GLASSES
by Lillian Hollibaugh
never quite escape. He was the kind of child that everyone, in the darkest depths of their stomachs, hoped might fall down a well or maybe stray a little too close to the raging river on some stormy night.
long enough, which he did.
He knew then that he was in love, and there
Derry did his best to fit in, tried to keep his internal flame at a slow, silent burn, but he knew from the deep ache living behind his ribs that there would never be a day where the world would stop holding its breath at his arrival.
would be no other like her. But before he could drop to his knees in front of her and confess his fantastic realization, his mother hunkered in and crushed the bubbling tension with her hasty benevolence.
It was spring in Killeagh when the most won- derous woman he had ever seen walked in the door of his and his mother’s homely shack.
When they finally separated, Aideen looked over to Derry, and upon seeing him for the first time, squealed a little and started toward him. His heart almost stopped right then as she grabbed both his cheeks in her perfectly textured fingers and pinched them just the right amount and he dissolved at her touch.
She didn’t knock; in fact, the door trembled
in her wake, collapsing before her. Derry, mouth full of a lovely breakfast, glared with contempt at dirty black boots. And then up, his gaze travelled, until the woman caught it, merciless. They rested there, de- feated, doing their best to comprehend the powerful figure before them.
Apparently, Cousin Aideen had gone to the well for water one morning and had never come home. Everyone had assumed that she had fallen in. Having the ‘every man for himself’ mindset, the peo- ple of Killeagh turned their heads and hoped for the best, never once actually looking down the well for themselves. That was 15 years ago. In truth, Aideen had just gone out and joined the army in secret,
and then moved to America once her term ended in search of the American Dream. Upon failure, she finally returned home and then sat in front of Derry
She was an older woman, weathered, but wearing her years proudly on her skin, but the first thing he noticed was that her eyes did not follow the same pattern of aging. Derry realized quickly that he could drown in the color, almost yellow if you stared
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