Uncle Frank’s Sale (An Older Fiction Story I Wrote)

            It has been a long day, a long day to shop around. Here there and everywhere they'd announce their presence: price. This is how much I am, this isn't negotiable, this is. Sometimes it was easy to swallow and pay, other times it was a big slice out of my budget. It was always the strangest of items sold as well. Mice (yes, mice), rice (not strange just surprising), even some old hat I refused to even pick up fearing it might have lice; still, this was the journey.

              Then I'd find it, the old record player. It was the same as one I listened to growing up. If that wasn't surprising enough, the record my parents and I listened to was also there! I bought them at the end of a long day and couldn't wait to try them out. After such a welcome find I decided to make this sale where these were at the last one for the day.

              On the trip home memories flooded my weary mind of the items purchased and the stories attached to them. “We always seemed to have such great times my parents and I with these,” I thought, “Were they proud of me though, did they love me?”, I wondered, remembering how they were there but how it wasn’t verbalized.

             The short drive across town felt endless and my impatience was starting to get the best of me when my house came into view. Arriving at home, I hurriedly set everything up and went to play the record; I simply wanted to reconnect with those treasured time again. Finally! It was up and running and the record was playing at long last. I sat there for a while just listening and enjoying the music. Each memory started playing in full detail while each note was heard across time. The instrumental was bliss with each minute heard that danced alongside memories in my thoughts of my parents, my now long since deceased parents, when out of nowhere I heard them! I almost passed out at the shock of this discovery! If not for the intense longing to hear them again I might very well have. Intently I focused and gave my full attention to the strange phenomenon coming across the old speaker of the old record player. A message that was recorded. One that was recorded somehow at this place toward the end of the record. The affirmations and encouragement were received hungrily, ones telling me how proud of me they were, how much they loved me! Somehow they found a way to do this! Somehow they preserved it for me! I was left in awe at the loving effort taken for me. I was left in grateful tears at the loving effort taken for me. The more I think about it, I recall seeing the seller keeping them hidden until I came along. Regardless I'm grateful for my uncle Frank's sale to me that day (for only a penny too!), on the anniversary of their death.

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