Fun contest alert! Write a piece of flash fiction, poem, or song (300 words or less) using the photo above as your inspiration. Post it on your blog anytime between now and when the link closes. Every eligible entry will qualify for a chance to win one of the prizes that are listed on one of these lovely people's blogs: Lillie McFerrin, Angie Richmond, Angela Goff, Daniel Swensen.
My Entry:
They
tell me flowers will cover my grave. They will be white, just like the little light
above me that attempts to be comforting in this world of cinder blocks and gray
plaster. If I squint, the shadows on the walls look like a forest.
Of
course, they don’t believe what they promise. They are trying to make me happy.
They are pretending. They smile but their eyes tell a different story. Their
eyes say they still believe the doctors. They still have a hope – a hope that I
will survive, that we will make it to America, that the war will fix
everything...
They
don’t understand. America has forests
but not like the ones that I’m going home to. There – only there – will I be
whole again.
Please, listen! I scream the words but
they can only hear the painful count of my heartbeat.
I
take my mother’s hand and smile.
I’m going home.
She
smiles too as tears stream down her cheeks. The light reflects in
her eyes, and in the droplets, and I finally see it. She believes.
I
feel relieved as the tears hit my sheet one by one, gently watering the flowers
that are bursting into life around my fingers.
I
close my eyes and breathe. I can feel the walls fading away. I fill my lungs with moist, cool
air that is not from the hospital. The flowers gently drape themselves over me.
The flowers will mark my grave. They will be all that’s left.
The
last flower falls and soft darkness ensues. But, really, it’s not darkness, is
it? There is a small light shining for I can see something. Flowers -- like I’ve never seen before. There
are trees too.
I
know I believe now. I can see it.
I’m
going home.
Ahem: This might be one of the weirdest things I've ever written. Not sure where this came from. But there you have it! :)
It isn't weird at all McKenzie, it is stunningly beautiful. I am so very glad to be able to read your writing.
ReplyDeleteAwww, thank you Jo-Anne! You are so encouraging. :)
ReplyDeleteI've come here through the blog hop, and quite enjoyed reading your entry! Is it weird? Weird doesn't mean bad, anyway!
ReplyDeleteI guess it is a good kind of weird. I finally decided I liked it. :) Thank you!
DeleteI really liked it, didn't seem weird to me at all. Great use of the imagery, I really liked how you used it.. you saw something in it that totally escaped me. That's what's great about these contests. +1 follower. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Kevin! I'm loving all the different perspectives on this picture too.
DeleteThanks for following. :D
Mckenzie this is so awesome! I was almost crying by the end. Is there a specific time period this is set in? It makes me think of Eastern Europe in the mid 20th century, or the Diary of a Young Girl. Great take on the picture!
ReplyDeleteAw, thank you Margaret! I'm sorry it almost made you cry but I'm glad at the same time. ;)
DeleteI actually had no specific anything for this story... It just kind of fell out when I sat down to write. But looking at it now, it would make sense for a WWII kind of setting and I was definitely imagining something European. I dunno. Maybe I'll continue it one day and find out :)
You should totally do an entry by the way...!! :)
DeleteThere's mush here to be interpreted. A good example of abstract writing. Nice one, Mc! :)
ReplyDelete'...not sure where this came from...'
ReplyDeleteWhereever that place is, keep diving into it to bring back more.
Good job!
Thanks. I think I will. I decided I liked it. :)
DeleteI don't think it is weird, and wherever it came from, I would keep visiting. Great job! New follower :)
ReplyDeleteGracias!!!!! I love followers. :D
ReplyDelete