Memories

She stared as she felt the destruction of her childhood, she watched as she the home she grew up in got demolished unable to move, unable to do anything but look and weep silently.

Sweeping her eyes around, a new wave of nostalgia passed within her. Vivid memories replacing the desolate scenes they were now. She reminisced for it was the only thing she could.

She smiled as many familiar places jumped at her carrying an undertone of melancholia within them. The fun she’d had once, all the brilliant moments she’d experienced tainted now.

Her eyes rested on two old and decrepit armchairs and despite her sadness, she smiled bitterly. She could see her grandparents sitting there regaling her with tales of old, her tiny self, hanging on their every word.

As a piece of an old tree fell on top of them, she turned away, brushing tears she hadn’t seen fall. She kept on walking, not daring herself to look back, not able to witness anything more.

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Word count: 168

Written for Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by the lovely Susan. Been a while since I’ve last written anything so I hope I’ve done alright.

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Beginnings #writephoto

Underneath the magnificent canopy,

the wind blowing ever so softly,

skies painted ever so beautifully,

sun dying ever so warmly.

 

She sat, gazing at the beauty around,

content with everything here.

Entranced by nature’s splendor,

shoulders light and bright.

 

Past troubles and tensions forgotten,

stress leaving her body.

No more dwelling for future anxieties,

what-ifs or could-have-beens.

 

As darkness grew throughout,

she got up, ready to leave.

To not return to this wonderland,

until she’d bested herself.

 

A new place, a new beginning,

no expectations thrust upon.

She’d build herself from the ground,

and return here once more.

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Written as a response to Thursday Photo Prompt- Beginning #writephoto, hosted by the lovely Sue over on Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

The broken remains #writephoto

Em moved her eyes around the bare room, her face impassive, her hands clenched tightly. Barest flicker of anger flashed on her face as she spotted the exotic feather on the floor. She picked up the offending item from the floor, fury radiating from her stone cold face.

Everything was so different now, she remarked to herself. Everything was gone and in its place lay the vast emptiness that surrounded her day and night. Reminiscing about the past brought a whole fresh wave upon her. Outwardly, her face remained so still, a mask of indifference, but inside was a whole different story. Raging walls of anger along with a steady stream of thoughts, both violent and loathing.

The echoes of footsteps around her startled her, snapping her out of the rage-filled reverie. In this vast emptiness, it was hard to determine the location and direction of the sound but she’d guessed right. As she gazed into the form of her lifelong friend, the last remnants of the anger left her but the desperation and hurt still remained.

Seeing the all too familiar shudder pass through her friend’s body, Row hastened forward, enveloping Em into an embrace. She held her as her body shook with fury and hurt. She held on tight as the tears started falling along with a cascade of insults. She held on tight as Em sank to the ground, taking her alongside, not letting her go even for a second, holding her tight. She held on, for herself and for Em.

The two women sat like that in the empty house for a long time. Without words, without any exchange, they consoled each other. Being there for the other when they needed the most, combating the emptiness inside and outside with slow warmth and lasting love. And when they got up, their minds were clear, and their hearts even more so. There was only one thing on their minds, there was only one thing left to do, revenge.

The small blue feather, now downtrodden and messy, floated slowly and wistfully as the footsteps echoed in the empty house once again, dimming with each passing second, slowly ceasing into nothingness.

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Yet another action-packed, filled with emotions and little to no dialogue, narrative-esque short. Feels like I’m doing a lot of those recently…

Written as a response to Thursday Photo Prompt- Remains #writephoto, hosted by the lovely Sue.

 

Phoenix

Em stared at the ruins of her childhood home, her eyes red and puffy. Streaks marked her face where tears had been. She looked a mess as she stood in the ruins alone, surveying it, missing it. She surveyed, her mind supplying her with memories to compare and contrast.

She walked around, kicking rocks in frustration. Everything was utterly destroyed. The kitchen where she used to watch her mom bake, the living room that was the location of many arguments, the stairs where she and her brother would fool around, everything was gone.

Wiping a tear from her face, she allowed herself to dwell on the past for a few more moments. She reminisced with a soft smile on her face, thinking of all the good times this old house had seen.

Sitting down on her usual rock, she looked at the house again. Her mind was slipping into the past but she stopped herself. Now was not the time to lose herself in what was, now was the time for action. With a steeled look on her face, she stared onwards, vowing to make things better, to give her kids the home she once had.

Word Count: 196
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Written as a response to Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by the lovely Susan and photo courtesy of C.E. Ayr. To read other stories of this photo prompt, click here.