Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

September 20, 2019, 06:35:47 PM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Umbrella  (Read 30 times)
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« on: September 11, 2019, 03:34:14 PM »

It is a dull grey Sunday and the seasons of her life are locked in a dance. Each one refusing to sleep. She wakes up misty hearted and foggy souled from a strained sleep. She drags herself from the warmth of her sheets, her hard earned body heat immediately stolen by the winds thief. Her blinds shutter compassionately and she looks over her shoulder longingly at the wrinkled sheets.She knows she has to move, she has to keep up the routine now matter how heavy hearted she feels. The alternative is... Her routine is her umbrella, her illness a hard and persistent rain. Rain singing from her cloudy eyes as it always does at this time of year. Just move, keep moving. These words resound, shine and guide her forward like a lamplight on a dark maritime night. She feels the shaggy carpet clinging to her feet as she takes one paper thin step after another toward the bathroom. The sound of her footsteps remind her of critters in a forest. Reaching the bathroom she turns the water tap, hears the water tank splutter and the pipes groan before she sees the first drop arrive. Flowing freely now, as her thoughts begin to wander.. where does water come from, where do feelings go? Looking up, she recognizes the face staring back at her in the cold lifeless mirror. Middle aged, an unfinished story, lines of experience collecting like cobwebs in the corners of her eyes.
« Last Edit: September 11, 2019, 03:52:56 PM by plamb » Logged
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