Page 58 - The Houseguest

of clothing into two large suitcases. I would have to call the office in the morning and take another leave of absence. Besides, they were riding so high since my return, it wouldn’t matter. Tom would take over my existing cases, appreciating the confidence shown in him, but also knowing they were the most intriguing and profitable. I called a cab to get to my car, which I’d left at the coffee shop. Parking tickets awaited my arrival on the windshield. Laughing out loud watching them fly into the dark night, I sped toward the direction of Sag Harbor. Upon my arrival at the beach house, everything looked the same. But I didn’t feel the same as last time I’d been here. Completely focused on one task, I ignored the keepsakes that would only stir endless and painful memories. I confidently, callously walked into rooms I’d previously avoided and felt nothing, that is except for her Inspiration Room. But even that room would become a part of my plan of Ravenge as it unfurled. Nothing was off limits now.
I felt a high that I’d never experienced, neither drink nor drug induced. I had finally made a decision what to do with all the anger that had been increasing in strength and size like a wave that gathers water to grow before it hits the shore. I stuck the large paper all over the walls, got out my markers and starting writing ideas in all capital letter print. No cursive or script writing – this needed decisive letters that properly expressed the pain and fury behind Ravenge.
I wrote large and fast, walking back and forth between the large white displays, adding content, striking through lines. One idea led to another. I soon realized this would only be the foundation of the plan and it would have to be revised regularly until it was ready. My eyes
58
The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life