She waits..

Love once lived here within these walls, now they are barren guardians of lost dreams.  Roses bloomed along with the laughter of children playing in the yard.  The aroma of freshly baked bread drifted through rooms, wrapping the house in a blanket of comfort.  As darkness fell, she would sit by her favorite window that faced the sea, cradling her youngest child.  She watched the endless horizon and hoped that one more sunset might bring him home..again.

But, that was so long ago, before she lost count of the days and endless nights.  Before she realized that he would never return.  Her children grew and the roses slowly withered while silence danced in and out of the trees.  Her tears mixed with the pounding spray from the ocean.

Some say she walks the halls still.  Her shadow is often seen, waiting by the upstairs window, in this house where love once lived..and hope died.

 

 

Flicker of Inspiration #57: Speed Photo Prompt and Linkup

This week we’re bringing you another speed prompt, but this one has a twist. This time we’re mashing up a photo with speed. We want you to look at the photo. Let it take you somewhere. Let it tell you its story. Then, for ten solid minutes, write down words inspired by that photo. You can give us fiction, non-fiction, or poetry. Whatever the picture stirs within you.

 

Signature

Doorway…

 

Another night of unsettling screams.  Cursewords mixed with prayers spread throughout the darkness.  Any chance of sleep was fleeting, just like the memories escaping from the room down the hall.  It would go on for hours, frenetic energy, fueled by a demon who made her keep searching and held the person she once was…hostage. 

I stood outside the doorway to her room, waiting for that one right moment to enter, hoping she might remember, armed in case she didn’t.  Tonight, my weapon of choice was a plate with oatmeal cookies instead of the graham crackers that she hated.  For a moment, I was a little girl again, clutching a teddy bear for comfort,  wanting, needing a mother who wasn’t there.

 

 

 

Flicker of Inspiration Prompt #53: Pitch Perfect

This week your Flicker of Inspiration prompt is to give us a pitch. A perfect pitch. Think of the description on the back of your favorite novel, the words that make you buy that book for your Kindle, the short paragraphs that let you know you MUST read that book.

I worked cookies into my pitch because of the role they played when I was caregiver for my late mother, thus the name of my book, “Another cookie, please!”.   Just about every combative situation (and there were many) could be dealt with by distracting her with a cookie, preferably chocolate chip.  Once, I made the mistake of handing her graham crackers which she promptly flung back at me.   The crackers made it clear across the kitchen table.  She had a good arm.

 

Signature

Dust

Dust in the Eyes
by Robert Frost (and Patty)

If, as they say, some dust thrown in my eyes
Will keep my talk from getting overwise,
I’m not the one for putting off the proof.
Let it be overwhelming, off a roof
And round a corner, blizzard snow for dust,
And blind me to a standstill if it must.

So, go ahead, scatter dust,
I will not argue, if you must.
My sight will see beyond the haze
And stare back, with defiant gaze.
There are none so blind who will not see,
That is, everyone, except for me.

 

 

Flicker of Inspiration Linkup #51: Now What?

Your prompt this week was to write a story that begins after the established end of a different story that already exists. For example, you could write about what happens after Thelma and Louise go for their last drive together – granted, they might not be in that story, but the fallout of that scene is probably full of potential drama.

 

Well, I cheated a bit with this prompt.  Forgive me.

For the past few days, I’ve spent hours re-writing the endings to various stories, movies or books and nothing, absolutely nothing, worked.  Just call me creatively-challenged on this one but remember to be kind.  Okay?

Since I enjoy the works of Robert Frost, I borrowed one of his poems and expanded on it a bit.  I just hope that by doing so I don’t end up in writer’s jail.

I did my best.

Signature