Posts Tagged ‘letting go’

Letting Go

Posted: March 8, 2023 in Friday Fictioneers
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44

Papa! Look! One side of that big cloud is the color of mercury; the other side is gold. And the little one on the right is a cream-colored rose!

Yes, Moppet.

And there! Those weeds look like snowballs with flecks of green glitter inside. Do you see that? Do you?

Oh, Moppet, your imagination tires me, Papa says, only to himself.

Papa! We could ride for miles across this snow, passing icebergs on sleighs painted with flowers!

Now Papa watches his daughter slip into her husband’s arms knowing he is blessed with a woman who will change his world.

Until We Are No More

Posted: September 23, 2017 in What Pegman Saw
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20

Pegman took us to Sambor Prei Kuk Temple, Cambodia today. What an amazing place. I wandered around the grounds until I found this amazing picture. My 119-word story follows.

 

Oh, we are a pair are we not?
Wound around one another’s lives
One of us limber and forgiving
The other solid and stern

We laugh over the details
of our failures
We cry over the unforgivable losses
Children
Parents
Homes
Jobs
Joy
Not because either of us is to blame
but because there is no one to blame

We cling and claw our way
through days
And languish in our nights
Making love
or fighting
It doesn’t matter which

Because each brilliant dawn
we awaken with the hope
that one of us will
Let go
Cling tighter
Love harder
Turn away

Or we will both
remain the same
and get on with it
Until we are no more

Busted

Posted: August 12, 2015 in Friday Fictioneers
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55

This is my 104 word letter in response to the lovely picture of moths beneath a highly-edited sign at a McDonald’s in Somewhere, USA.

moths

Dearest Wilbur,
Your comments and suggestions should be directed to someone who cares.
F.Y.I, that is NOT me.
(Perhaps your new secretary will oblige)
I don’t care if you hate my green dress and despise the brown one.
(You seem to like your secretary in ~ or out of ~ blue)
I will not dye my hair blonde.
(Like your secretary’s)
Pleasing you is no longer my concern.
(Your secretary is doing a fine job)
From now on you can eat at McDonald’s, iron your own clothes, and dust your own dust.
I sincerely thank you for fifteen miserable years. Claudette
P.S. I sold your cat