Day 1: Maeve and Cabhán



Maeve lived on a farm at the back of the town. She had grown up in this house, and after fifty years exploring the world she had decided to move back. Her dream was always to help people so she travelled as a nurse, healing the sick and providing aid where she could. Through her travels she had gained knowledge, wisdom and love. The man that sat tending to the fire was responsible for much of that.

His face was as handsome as it was when they first met, his skin unblemished by wrinkles, his hair still a fiery red, with eyes deep and innocent. Anyone would think he was her son, until the two talked. Cabhán was forty years her senior. An immortal who had seen more of the world than she ever would. Yet, he stuck with her, had moved back here with her, had promised to keep up the farm as she couldn’t.

In every way he was her soulmate.

Often, he would bicker with her, sometimes over trivial things like what to get the grandchildren for their coming of age ceremonies, and sometimes over important issues like money and the secrets to immortality. Despite these small conflicts, the two never resented each other or held a grudge that lasted longer than an hour. “I have the rest of my life for grudges,” Cabhán would say, his brown eyes flickering in the candlelight. “I would like to spend our limited time together being hopelessly devoted to you.” She would kiss him them, kiss him fiercely until all remnants of anger faded away. They would love each other till the day she died. Ideally, she wouldn’t die at all, but the immortals had lost the ability to pass on their gifts. So, she settled for a measly human lifespan of romance.

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This is an extract of a story I plan to post more of! Originally all of these were posted to instagram, so the 300 word limit was a little confining. I'm hoping to post the rest of this story soon, as I kind of love it, but please tell me what you think of it so far!

Truthfully, I wrote this when I was home alone and a little afraid one night. I wanted to write something unsettling (like Cabhán) but comfortable (like an old married couple), because it was how I was feeling.

Also the idea of an old woman and an old but young looking man has always appealed to me as something that could be a lot of fun to write about.

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