Writing Prompt for Wednesday, August 31, 2016
This week Debb at Inner Sunshine
has given us two photo prompts.
The cold crispness of the air
Matched her feelings of despair
Black and white no colour to be seen
Stark and bare it was obscene
When would life become bearable again?
It was such a nightmare;
She was caught in a snare
Trapped, frightened, scared, low
Caught as a doe
In the headlights, frozen
On the horizon a light, a beacon
She wanted a dream
She didn’t want to scream
How many days, months or years
When would they stop falling, her tears
Her constant companion in the dark days
Never ending, never ceasing, a black haze
She would shake and shiver
Not with pleasure.
Gradually, oh so gradually
The thaw began slowly
Month by month, day by day, week by week
Trickling back in to her thoughts, she began to speak
To say out loud
To become proud
To stand up tall
She would not fall
Down to the depths, uncontrolled
Loosening the blindfold
The mist began to clear
She began to hear
Sights and sounds
Stopped spinning around
The cold, dark space
It wasn’t a race
Her therapist had said
She was afraid of what lay ahead
Her family strengthened her
Cuddled her, wrapped her in their care
With love and comfort she put one foot forward
And proceeded carefully toward
Building her life, as nature does every season
She would never know the reason
He was taken, his life over too soon
The table was set, the fresh flowers smelt wonderful. Alice smiled. There was a time she thought she would never feel happy again.
Everything was ready. Right on time her companions arrived. Kisses on cheeks were given and received, a flurry of activity as the ladies seated themselves admiring the flowers, the tablecloth and the setting.
Fresh lemonade was served, teacakes and serviettes handed out, all enjoyed and complimented on by the group of four women.
Now the informal writing group got down to business. It was Alice’s turn, as the hostess, to divulge writing from several years ago. She had gone through her dairies and notepads and painstakingly typed her handwriting up on to the computer and then printed out several copies.
As she passed the copies round her heart started beating faster. Would they feel what she felt at that time? Would they think it was over the top? Would they actually realise it was based on fact and not fiction? Should she tell them it was fact or should she lie and say it was fiction?
A few minutes later each lady was reaching for a tissue. Hands were dabbing at eyes, throats were cleared.
Joan looked at Alice, Daphne looked at Alice and Anita joined in the stare.
Alice blushed as the heat rose up from her rib cage, covering her throat in a pink glow, moving up to her cheeks and forehead.
Her three friends stood as one and moved besides and behind her enveloping her in a friendly hug.
It felt good to finally let it all go.