Highly commended entry in Words for the Wounded Writing Competiton: Cassie Cooper Bagnall

Congratulation to Cassie Cooper Bagnall for being Highly Commended in a recent Words for the Wounded national competition. This competition helps raise funds for wounded service men and women. For more details visit http://www.wordsforthewounded.co.uk/index.html

 

Cassies’s piece is as follows:

 

“Warming sunlight poured in through the open window, pooling gently around a sleeping female form. Lucy sunk into its comforting embrace, rolling softly onto her side hands placed protectively over her ‘bump’. A new dawn. Promising great things with its limitless sky of blue. Poppies stood tall outside the window, cursed with an ugly bud, blessed with a beautiful bloom; a fog of emotion clouded her vision as tears sparkled, yet unshed.

 
Three months. Six days. Nine hours.

 

The space beside her was painfully vacant, pillows undisturbed by an exhausted head instead occupied by a crumpled piece of paper, words flowing across the page in an achingly familiar hand. His last letter. She’d read it so many times it was carved into her heart.

“Come on Luce.” she smiled, listening to the faint echo of the voice she’d fallen in love with . “Up and at ‘em.”

“Alright, give me a minute. Go make some coffee and stop nagging me.”

“It was just a love-nag,”

“Go ‘love-nag’ the coffee pot!”

“I’m going, I’m going...”

She wasn’t a morning person. She had the opinion that there were some hours of the day no normal human being should ever see.

 

Three months. Six days. Twelve hours.

 

Then it happened. His photo was packed with care and Lucy bustled into the back seat, parents arguing all the way. The engine kicked in with a hacking cough, prompting another argument over when they were going to replace this ‘good for nothing...’

“That doctor has a serious honker!”

 

Three months. Six days. Nineteen hours.

 

“We’re going to take you down to the delivery room.”

 

Three months. Six days. Twenty hours.

 

Lucy held her baby girl in her arms awestruck, marvelling at creation.

“Who do you think she looks more like?” she asked.

“She’s gorgeous. She’s all you.”

She looked up and saw her soul-mate; he was as she had seen him last, now a figment of her imagination - handsome, with dark hair, and melting chocolate coloured eyes. His uniform fit him proudly, though his boots were up on the bed. Again! She raised an eyebrow and mysteriously his feet slid back to the floor.

A father, a soldier, a hero...her Jerri.

“I miss you.”

“You can always find me. I never really left.”

Lucy looked down at her baby girl, awake and smiling, her father’s eyes brimming with curiosity.

 

He was right. He was still here.”