To always be forgotten.
In play with James Moriarty.
It was to have been the end of all the wars. People had lost everything and everyone important to them. Lands ravaged by the fighting, crops and livestock taken to feed the armies. Husbands duty bound to fight, and leave families behind.
It's a time now for starting over. My lady had a husband taken by the war two years ago, leaving her to continue run their small farm alone. Then in the last weeks of the war word arrives to her, that her husband has been found on one of the last battlefields. Not one word had she heard from him since he'd left, and it had been her belief that he was dead. Lost to her. They hadn't had a passionate marriage . Rather they were a couple who had drifted into being a couple because of a mutual fondness. So when she gets word he's in a distant hospital, she's glad..relieved that he's alive and will soon be home safe with her. Also, there's the practical side however. The farm has exhausted her, and the work is back breaking for a woman on her own. He's needed at home.
But when she makes the journey to the closest station to meet him on his return, the man that descends the steps of the train accompanied by a nurse for the journey across the country, is not the man she'd married. And he has no memory of his own at all, his head injuries so bad that the nurse warns her that the field Doctor believes it highly unlikely he'll remember anything about himself at all. But the stranger had had her husbands papers folded in a wallet on his person, and the presumption was this was the man that had gone to war, saying his good byes to his wife with the promise he'd return in a few months.
She can't bare to go back to the farm alone and face the work and the quiet..nor can she abandon the land and move on. She will not survive alone on a farm that is slowly draining her. It is no place for a woman alone without a husband..not on lands farmed at the foot of the mountains, miles from anywhere, however magnificent the setting. So she tells a terrible lie, and claims the husband who is not her husband, as her own.
A stranger is dependent on her memories to reintroduce him into a life she says was his, and he believes was because she says so. She is as great a stranger to him as he is to her...for all the wrong reasons.
But they steadily forge on, and the weeks become months, and the tiring work and a sense of achievement as they work together brings them closer...and the marriage becomes a ''real'' one. And it's good. It's wonderful. She finds the love with this man that had sadly been lacking with her true husband. ..and the stranger finds he loves her too. Memories are made between them, shared and they make their own history.
Until he starts to remember things. Little things. Things that don't add up. Things that don't fit with what is here. A lie told out of desperation begins to unfold slowly, and distrust threatens what might have been. And she's afraid to tell him the truth, and he's afraid to ask. But eventually the truth must come out. Especially when he looks at her, and doesn't see her in a past that's coming back to him a little more every single day.
I would ask that the first post of this thread, links on top of this post in purple, be read please before contacting me. It's very important.
This can be a lengthy story, expanded upon and discussed..or it can be a shorter story, as is. All I specify is that it's available to a mature male writing partner, ( Mature = Older+ capable) with a decent grasp of diction and a preference to longer posts..albeit NOT daily on my part as per my introduction post.
I'm not a fanatic about the details of what war, what country and what exact era a setting is, as I rarely get to write with anyone from my own country and my own knowledge of other countries histories is somewhat limited to google. So I tend to leave exact details a little unmentioned to save arguments. This one would however fall under the canopy of historical, where a woman's place was at home and men went to war. After that the details of what war etc can be wide open for interpretation. In fact it can be completely fictional war.
Pm me if interested..Thank you.