The Letter

Thanks, Rochelle, for posting yet another photograph for our merry band to ponder then jot down the 100-word story that pops into our mind. I find I’m getting a little down in the dumps about the state of the world so I tried to go on the lighter side again this week. Thanks to all who read and comment. Cheers!

26 June 

My Dearest Loraine,
No paper available. Using the flip side of a wine label.
We are stationed in Paris. Nazis everywhere.
Gregor is dead.
At least he died smiling.
Screams of the wounded are driving me mad.
Kiss the babies for me.
Love, Ted

Loraine shifts Barbara Sue on her hip. Kisses her baby-soft hair then reads the note for the fourth time, doing her best to make out what Ted had truly written.
Samuel tugs the hem of her skirt. “Mama?”
“Ah, Sam,” she says, “I fear the censors may have too much time on their hands.”

Waiting

Used to be I saw quite clearly. Crisply. Now, standing here waiting for you, the world seems fuzzy.
You said, “Wait for me on the bench.” Which bench? There are two. Already five women have strolled by.
Thinking the first one was you I hugged her. Tight. She gasped and gently pushed me away.
Once I realized she was a stranger, I figured she should’ve slapped me. Hard. Now I’ll wait until you say my name.
Fuzzy. Damn fuzzy.
“Clarence?”
“Amanda!”
Dressed in white, you walk toward me. My heart sings.
“Come, Mr. Whitworth, your wife passed five years ago.”

A Brief Trip to the Garden

Today’s photo was provided by Liz Young. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for always posting thought-provoking prompts.

people are always watch, watch, watching me,
following, whispering, shouting
inside my head, behind my back, talk, talk, talk
i feel tied up in knots, trapped in a cage,
nowhere to run, nowhere to hide,
scared, happy,
no, sad, giddy
where are my mates, my mom, daughters
didn’t i have a son once
he is dead, was never born, did he have a twin
hell, can’t remember
i think i ate yesterday or last week
donuts, chips, an apple found in the trash
fought a squirrel for it, a raven

“Come with us, son. Time to go back inside.”

99-words