Amor Fati: Episode 1 - A Knock at the Front Door
‘The flowers look beautiful, Mum,’ Clara smiled fondly, her head tilted downward, looking at her mother’s headstone.
The sun rose slowly behind her, coating the sky in a rich pink and yellow light. She could feel the warm strokes of the sun’s rays on her back, penetrating the thick, brown woolen coat she wore. To Clara, the warmth was almost comforting. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the rays of light reached past her and illuminated the granite stone before her. The words etched into its surface twinkled with the morning light:
Here Lies Stacey Foster
14th July 1961 to 5th September 2026
Beloved wife of Andrew and devoted mother of Clara
Always Missed and Forever Loved
Clara gently pulled herself away from her mother’s grave and headed towards the cemetery gates. As she made her way past the stone, she placed her hand on its curved top. The cold rock sprouted warmth beneath her palm.
‘Love you, Mum,’ Clara whispered as her arm dropped to her side and she began to walk away.
Winston University was an elaborately landscaped school. The buildings were ornate and detailed structures from the early twentieth century. Lush green vines clung to the sides of most buildings and cobblestone pathways weaved through intricate arches and lavish gardens. It was ten o’clock in the morning when Clara walked down one such path towards the car park, having just left the History wing where she worked as a teaching assistant. Her eyes faced forward, seeing where she was going, but her mind was elsewhere. She wasn’t thinking about anything in particular; rather it was a cloud of indiscernible and confused thoughts that clung to her mind, giving her head a heavy feeling. Lost in the maze of her mind, Clara was oblivious to the group of three young men ahead of her, approaching from the opposite direction. As the men attempted to shuffle past her on the narrow path, she abruptly knocked shoulders with the one in the middle. In response, she looked up and stared into his eyes, only to be shocked by who she saw. He, too, was just as surprised to see her.
At home, Clara unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Closing the door behind her, she rested against it, pressing her back against the wood. Her mother’s house, now bestowed to her, was a small two-bedroom abode situated in a pleasant tree-lined street. The outside of the house bore a classic style reminiscent of the 1950s, comprising of white painted weatherboards and a wooden porch that extended the entire front of the house. The inside, however, whilst maintaining some traditional elements, consisted of more modernised décor; whitewashed walls, polished timber floorboards and stone bench tops. The hallway, which connected the front of the house to the kitchen at the back, was littered with decaying bouquets of flowers. Sympathy cards and notes adorned with such messages as ‘Sorry for your loss,’ and ‘With our deepest sympathy,’ scattered the shelves and sideboards. Staring at this depiction of everything she had lost, Clara felt an ache in her chest. She ran her fingers through her hair and placed a few stray strands behind her ears, trying to ignore it. However, something else nagged at her heartstrings; the hurt was somewhat familiar. She couldn’t help but think about James.
It was thirteen years since the last time Clara and James saw each other, almost fifteen years since they first met. Though she hadn’t thought about it in a long time, Clara recalled that year, the last year of high school, as though it had happened yesterday. It was a year that was not easy to forget. It contained joy and loss, love and heartache; experiences that stayed with her and helped define her as a person. She remembered back to where it had all started – a knock at the front door.
About the Author: Elyse Harrison
Elyse Harrison is an environmental professional and writer based in Geelong. Her writing explores the connections between people, animals, history and the natural world, often weaving together themes of hope, grief, belonging, love, and environmental stewardship. Drawing inspiration from nature, philosophy, and the enduring relationships between humans and animals, she writes poetry and fiction that seeks to find meaning in the fleeting moments that shape our lives.
https://www.facebook.com/ElyseHarrisonWriter/
