To Know the Future
Chapter 15

Copyright© 2004 by MasterDavid

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 15 - Julia is alone in the world. Her parents are dead, her lover abandoned her when she became pregnant, and now her estranged older brother has committed suicide. When she finds his final message, a crazy scrawl that tells of a man with a machine that tells the future, she feels he must have been driven insane

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Science Fiction   Slow  

It was the living room that most embodied how Julia saw and felt the house with her newly attuned senses. As she stood and let her eyes slowly travel over each piece of furniture, each picture, each detail which composed the whole of the room, she knew that she had always diligently dusted and cleaned everything, keeping it all as pristine as she could. Yet, taking in the room with more than just her sight, it was as if a great aura of mustiness covered everything. The room didn't look or smell any different than it had six weeks ago, or six months ago... or six years ago, for that matter. She had always cared for everything in the house, not changing anything after her parents' death... and suddenly, the word she'd been searching for to describe how she viewed herself within the context of the house simply popped into her head: caretaker. 'I've never let this be my home, ' she thought, finally stepping into the room. 'It's as if I've been thinking my parents would return here someday, and that the entire place needed to be kept for them exactly as they left it.'

She let her hands brush the back of her father's favorite chair, its high back and ottoman still aligned directly with the front of the console TV. She felt the raw patches where the finish of the brown leather had been rubbed away by her father's movement in and around the chair while watching football or boxing or some other sporting event. She leaned close and, inhaling, she smelled once again the essence which embodied the safety of her father's arms: Old Spice and leather, mingling when she buried her face into his shoulder while he hugged her tight. His arms had always been open, no matter how minor her need; when she left his embrace, she always felt lighter and stronger, her burdens no longer so daunting. Even now, as she breathed in more new dust than old leather, just the hint of that old combination of leather and cologne made her somehow feel safe and content.

"Which is exactly the problem!" she shouted, spinning around. Anywhere she could focus her eyes she saw yet another fond memory, spurring yet another wave of nostalgia and warmth... and giving her yet another excuse to lose herself in pleasant memories of the past - the very distant past. It was her house - and yet, looking around the room, she could find no trace of herself.

Trying to calm herself, Julia closed her eyes and contemplated for a moment, and then walked across the room to the far wall. For their 30th wedding anniversary, Richard had gifted their parents with a portrait he'd had recreated from a photograph taken at their wedding. Julia remember how her mother had gasped when the portrait was unveiled, then stood for hours marveling at the details magnified by the artist's brush, her fingers tracing line after line...

"Dammit! Stop living in the past," Julia remonstrated herself aloud. Forcing her attention from her parents' portrait, she focused on the collection of photographs that surrounded it. Her father had taken up photography soon after she was born, and any member of their immediate family that had passed within range of his lens was represented in black and white somewhere on the wall. There was no order or reason to how the pictures were hung; family vacations and family reunions were mixed with shots of individuals, and something hung in the 1970s might sit next to something taken in the 1990s. Julia's mother had called this method "even-handed"; there had been times that Julia had caught her rearranging the photos, shuffling them as if they were cards in an already well mixed deck. But even the ever-shifting position of her favorite snapshots was not Julia's biggest problem with the wall of pictures.

'Why aren't there more pictures of Richard and me? Julia thought, and not for the first time. 'Most of these pictures are of people who we'd see once every five years, if that. Why are they just as important, ' Julia's eyes roamed the wall until she found a particular photo, 'the picture of Richard about to dump a bucket of ocean water on Mom and me while we were sunbathing? Or me jumping off the diving board at the deep end for the first time, with Dad snapping the picture as my feet touched the pool - my eyes closed, and Mom and Richard floating there to catch me if I had any trouble? Why is a picture of a distant cousin from Jamestown as important as one of those pictures?'

 
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