Image: Pexels

Karen’s hobby was photography. She always loved capturing the beauty of a moment. Her subjects varied. Lakes, the sky, friends, the woods, you name it.

She had the next two days off and decided to head to the local park near the river. She’d grown up going to this park. It was her favorite location to take pictures.

When she arrived, the park was already buzzing with activity. Families playing on the playground, dogs playing fetch, people boating and skiing. It was a beautiful day. She readied her trusty camera and began.

Out of nowhere a storm hit. Everyone ran for cover. Karen had already been out in the blazing sun most of the afternoon and decided to call it a day. She could feel the heat of her skin. She’d gotten enough sun.

Once she got home, she changed into her comfy clothes and decided to just kick back, relax and enjoy a movie. She sat in her recliner with her favorite blanket.

Karen stretches and yawns looking around. She was having a hard time focusing. She looks around then realizes she had nodded off and ended up sleeping through the night.

She got up and started the coffee. She headed to her bathroom and noticed in the mirror her badly burnt nose. She took a quick shower and once finished she headed to the kitchen and fixed herself a cup of coffee. She decided to check the pictures she had taken the day before.

She takes a sip of her coffee while opening her viewer on her camera. Her eyes widen and she gasps in horror, dropping her coffee, the cup shattering on the floor. She continues flipping through her pictures. Karen was unsure what to do. She begins walking through her house, checking all the windows and the doors. All were locked. She began searching for something to use for protection. She noticed her baseball bat in the corner. She grabs it and her cell phone, takes a deep breath and opens the door leading to the basement.

She turns on the light and begins her descent. She makes her way down the flight of stairs and begins checking every corner. She finds nothing. She wasn’t sure if she should be happy about that or not. She heads back upstairs and grabs her camera, once again flipping through her pictures.

There on her camera were pictures of her as she slept in her recliner the night before. She lived alone. Someone had been in her home the night before. She knew it was from the night before as her nose was noticeably burnt. She continues flipping through her pictures and comes to one she had taken the day before at the park. It was of a little girl swinging. That wasn’t what caught her eye though. It was the man standing behind the little girl. She expands the picture.

She falls back into her recliner in shock. She looks at the picture again. It was her grandfather. Her grandfather that passed on his love of photography to her. Her grandfather that took her to this park every week when she was a child. Her grandfather that had passed away the year before.

But, how? At first she was creeped out by all of this. Then she looked closer at her Grandpa’s face. He was smiling. No one had broken into her home. It was her grandfather making contact with her. Karen smiled while the happy tears ran down her cheeks. She felt safe. She felt loved.

14 thoughts on “Contact”

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