Writing Prompt for Wednesday, August 31, 2016
This
week Debb at Inner Sunshine
has
given us two photo prompts.
MEMORIES
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.