Orphans Of The Storm - Sex Stories

Orphans Of The Storm

... surprised to see one of myself taken three years ago, on a picnic with mum. The old Bonnard print was the only thing that remains from the time when this was ' my' room. Feeling a little voyeuristic, I run my fingers over a pile of discarded clothes that lay on the unmade bed. Jeans, blouses and skirts mix with brightly coloured tops in a jumbled heap. A pair of red panties have half-escaped from the bundle and I fight my desire to touch them. As I walk towards the half-open window I nearly trip over a silver photo frame that's been left face-down on the floor, turning it over I see Maria and my mum happily laughing together. So much has changed, there's so many new things to consider now, and even more to try and understand. My bewildered brain is finding it hard to comprehend it all. Yet, there is one thing I know for sure. I walk out towards the lounge and pick up the car keys. I expect to see fallen trees as I back out of mum's drive, but it's just as I'd seen it yesterday. Driving through town there seems no sign of any damage, so I guess the tornado took a thankfully different path. I park outside the funeral directors and go inside. I'd spoken to Mr Grey on the phone five days earlier and he greets me with soft gentle eyes and a warm handshake. We chat for a while about my mum and how well she was respected. He tells me about her helping out at the church and how she helped the poor Mexicans in the community. More new things that I know nothing about. I'm beginning ...

... to wonder If I ever really knew my mum in her last few years. "I just can't face seeing mum in the chapel of rest today." I tell him. I feel a little guilty for not making the effort, but I tell him I'll come back tomorrow. He say's that everyone's grief is different and unique, he should know I guess. "Could you do me a couple more favours Mr Grey?" "Of course, Mr Bishop." "Could I ask you to post an ad in the local newspaper for me, reporting my mother's death. And could it include the information about the funeral, and the wake at the Claremont hotel. I'll pay you extra of course." "It would be a pleasure sir, all part of the service, is there something else?" "Yes, do you know my mother's companion, a Miss Rodriquez?" "Yes, everyone knows Maria, such a charming girl, so like your mother in many ways I always thought." I watch as his eyes narrow slightly, does he know something? "Do you know where she's staying or where she work's? I'd like to contact her and to thank her personally for being such a good friend to my mum." "I understand. Yes, she's living with a friend at the moment I believe. I can't tell you the address you understand. Confidentiality an' all that. However, everyone knows she works at the Graceland mansion hotel sir, if that's any help?" "That's very kind of you. Thanks." He looks at me suspiciously, but I don't wait to add fuel to his obvious curiosity. I know what these small towns are like, gossip is the mainstay of the bars and cafe's, and maybe even ...