Sanctuary

Pietra looked forward to laundry days at the river; she felt well-loved there. Her bare foot touching Maria’s, Maria’s touching Annelise’s, Annelise’s pressed into Graciella’s, one end of a rope tied around her ankle, the other around her son’s. He’d once floated downriver.

The women told stories against the background slap of their men’s shirts against rocks; the sound of cold water dripping from jeans hung on bushes to dry in the sun, reminding them their work was near completion.

Sometimes the friends stayed longer than needed. Braiding one another’s hair, laughing, perhaps drinking tea, for they knew what waited at home.

Centuries Apart

Today Pegman took our merry band of flash fiction writers to Gwynedd, Wales. Thanks, Karen, for taking me up on my suggestion! A couple of weeks ago a picture of Gwynedd was the wallpaper on my computer and I thought it looked fascinating. I’ve gone over my word-count by one after whittling fifteen words out of the story (sorry).

Had you been lucky, you would have seen
nineteen barefoot girls slip into the glen,
flowers in hand, hearts full of joy.

Perhaps you would have averted your eyes
as they removed blouses and corsets
before lacing the hems
of their striped linen skirts
over rabbit skin belts round their waists.

Without a doubt
the desire
to gently touch a shoulder or knee,
would have overwhelmed you
for their skin glistened
whiter than the inside of an oyster shell
dropped upon the sand.

And your heart would have soared
when the glen filled with laughter
as the girls braided ferns
through silken blonde hair,
their own or that of their sisters’.

One step closer
you could have admired
the silver-blue fire of their wide-set eyes.
Now it’s too late,
that color is lost to the world.

What a day you missed
simply because you were
too many centuries away.

Never Ending Love

Today Pegman took us to Terni, Italy. While scrolling around this fascinating place I found a painting of Marmore Falls. Suddenly (especially since Valentine’s Day is right around the corner) love was in the air. Thanks, Pegman!!!

Oh, how I love you
and you love me

For I have given you laughter
and nights of such glory
we were compelled to sing and shout
under blankets of stars
And in the end
I gave you children
so beautiful even the Gods are jealous

In return
you convinced me
that I do possess courage
and you taught me
how to acquire power
beyond all imagining
Even as you made me
recognize
that neither should be abused

We have shown one another
kindness
patience
generosity

And tolerated
anger
anxiety
lustfulness
and fear

If we only survive ten more years
or are lucky enough to live
one hundred years
or one thousand years longer
we shall flow through time
side-by-side
with our heads held high
and our fingers entwined

For I know
beyond a shadow of a doubt
the strength of us will always remain

(Located in the Parco Fluviale del Nera, the Marmore Falls is one of the finest outdoor attractions in the region surrounding Terni. This waterfall may look natural, but is actually man-made and stands as the tallest man-made fall in the world.)

Not For the Food

Today’s picture was taken by Roger Bultot.Thanks, Rochelle, for posting it. I’m sure this scene will inspire many wonderful stories! My 100-word piece about this gorgeous old cafe follows.

Sarah came to the cafe for the sounds
clatter of spoons
rattle of plates
the jingle of laughter and
jangle of that tiny tarnished bell over the door

Sarah made friends here
broke up with boyfriends here
Went away smelling of over-cooked eggs
and burned bacon
and feeling like she’d just left her home.

Home was a mangled car in the yard
home was the sound of the too-loud TV
Mama’s tears
dogs barking
and a faucet drip, drip, dripping

Home smelled of mold and cigarettes
Home was Daddy lying in
her brother’s empty bed
eyes staring at nothing

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Never Ending Time

It’s Wednesday – Friday again! Doug, thanks for this picture. There’s so much going on it was difficult to decide what to write about. Most of all it made me want to go to a warm beach and collect flotsam and jetsam that has floated up on the sand. Thanks, Rochelle, for keeping our merry band of writers on our toes.

Time seemed jumbled – years piled upon years.
People from all over the world visited Toyashi,
bringing shells, beads, bottles, rocks.
Payment was not important.
In return he healed their wounds
with elixirs he himself created.

He loved many who had come,
stayed, then died.

At first the years arrived like storms
full of laughter and dancing.
Later they resembled warm summer days
he wanted to last forever.
Now they are cold and never ending.
Like Toyashi.

The one thing people asked for –
knew he had –
was the secret to eternal life.
That elixir Toyashi would not share
and wished he’d never found.

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