Order of Dust by Nicholas J. Evans

Author:Nicholas J. Evans [Evans, Nicholas J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Parliament House

All was still but the wind over the cobbled streets that night. A middle-aged man stood on the stoop at the front of his townhouse with smoke creeping up from the glossed oak of his pipe. The gray swirls wiggled and squirmed as they ran by the glow of a street lamp. He watched it rise through the small circular lenses of his glasses, which rested on the bridge of a nose that held watch over a curled mustache. His hair slicked to one side over his thin face. The brown, tweed suit was tight over his torso covering a full belly. The lamps gave a light glow that reflected on the surface of the wet brick of the street and sidewalk. Each gave a little of their limited visibility that lit auric circles on the stone roads that squeezed between rows of homes.

This was his favorite time of the day. His work at the pharmaceutical department of the hospital was over; a job he felt was beneath a man of his mind. Dinner with his family had just ended, his wife now tending to the children before he would re-enter his home and tuck them in. Then he would share time alone with his wife, a woman he held higher than any other being, before tending to his other work in the cellar with his eager assistant; a glass of honey laced wine.

“Aldrich, the children are ready for their story!” a feminine voice called from inside. He tucked away his pipe and entered his home.

There was not much to it, but it was enough for them. Before him stood a long row of wood-trimmed steps that led up towards the bedrooms. To his right was his modest living room, decorated with a small fireplace, a large bookshelf, and a plump couch among other items and antiques. Off of that was their kitchen his wife loved to decorate with the styles of southern America, much to his displeasure. Of course there was a single door on the side of the staircase, leading down shoddy wooden steps into a large open room where Aldrich would work.

“One of these days I will join you for a smoke. There are these new tobacco items from America that the store a bit down the abbey carries! Edith swears they’ve been out for twenty years, but they only ju–”

“You know,” Aldrich interrupted softly, “my heart would love that, my love, yet we cannot for The Ripper is still on the loose. And it is out of the question for me to lose you to a monster such as that.” He stroked her pale, tender cheek gently. Their eyes met before she closed them, pressing her hand against the back of his and resting her face against it.

“One day, my sweet Aldrich. But for now, the children beckon for their story. Let us give them one,” she said and their lips met briefly before they headed up the stairs.

Aldrich was lost in every move she made, every moment of the day.

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