Friday, May 27, 2016
Gen 3 Ch 11: The Inevitability of Death
Much to her own surprise, Dolores was voted prom queen. Her parents were delighted.
They had no idea what their daughter had gotten up to on the way home from prom.
It had truly been a magical night.
And the next day was equally entertaining for Dolores.
A busy day in Hidden Springs!
As the temperatures started to drop, Clover felt it was time to reevaluate her décor.
She went all out on the Spooky Day theme, maybe hoping to please her daughter in some way.
"Grah! Monster mom!"
Tired of arson yet? Because Dolores sure wasn't!
This time: the school's playground. But as usual, some heroic Sim (Tyree, cop and cousin once removed) had to come along and prevent any lasting damage.
Since Matilda's passing, Bloom had barely left the house at all. That day, he went to work one more time, to hand in his resignation.
It had been a good run. He had helped to develop dozens of games, many of them timeless gems and eternal fan-favorites.
His work had been a big part of who Bloom was for a very long time. But without Matilda in his life, Bloom could not find his old spark anymore.
He did, however, finally visit the Bloom Heritage Museum. Excited patrons recognized Bloom from his portrait, prominently displayed across from the main entrance.
Seeing Darwin enjoying a game Bloom helped create felt good, but did not make him regret his decision to quit his job.
Slowly but steadily, Bloom started taking part in life again. He accepted an invitation from his niece Ginny to meet her new daughter.
She was a cute kid, despite the strange mix of genetics.
Ginny's husband Liam O'Dourke strangely reminded Bloom of his own father, Arthur.
Little Tremayne quietly did his homework, ignoring his kissing parents.
So full of life, Bloom thought, as his little grand-niece squirmed in his arms, cooing and giggling.
At night though, all Bloom could think about was the other half of the bed. Empty.
But the legacy remains.
Matilda's last unfinished painting haunted his dreams, and his waking.
A room full of memories. Sometimes it was just too much.
Exercise helped. Once he was close to the point of exhaustion, of dehydration. he almost felt at peace.
But no. Never all the way. He would wait it out, and be united with Matilda again once it was his time.
Cool and damp. Safe. Familiar.
Bellaboosh often stood and watched. She was very attached to Bloom, and waited patiently for him to resurface.
Visiting Cypress and Citrus.
... and playing games. Bloom took each day as it came.
One day, as he was painting, the brush slipped out of Bloom's hand. There was a distinct woody sound as it dropped to the floor.
"Odd...", he thought.
He felt so calm. As if from a distance, he heard the sobs of his family. But it was all so far away now.
He embraced death when it came.
Apparently, Dusty was having none of it.
Bloom stared at his hands. Solid. Rematerialized.
For a moment, or an eternity, there had been darkness. Nothing. No sight, no sound, no feeling. And something else. Something.
But now, it all came flooding back in. Sights, sounds and feelings. Oh, the feelings. If only he could go back again. Back to the sweet painlessness that had been.
He thanked Dusty nonetheless. It would do no good to be angry at the creature for doing something it could never comprehend.
The family was shocked. Happy, sure, but shocked. The family dog had scared The Grim Reaper into bringing Bloom back?!
Bloom tried hard not to resent the dog for keeping him from joining his beloved Matilda.
Bloom was the only one up late enough to celebrate Dusty's Elder birthday.