This post is in response to Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end using the picture prompt below.
Sometimes you need a new perspective on your life. Every day you go about your daily activities with little thought of how things change around you. Or do they? If you take a selfie (Oxford Dictionaries chose that word as its Word of the Year in 2013) today and stood in the same place a year from now, how much would change. Same pictures on the wall? Your favorite recliner? The super soft blanket that even Linus from Peanuts would envy?
Would you even be here in a year to take the picture. Yes? No?
This post is written for Friday Fictioneers. The challenge is to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less. My story follows the picture prompt below.
“Sorry for your loss.” He hates that statement. They don’t understand the world he now faces without her. She was always the one that was there for you when you needed her. Where were you when she needed you in her last months? She was always growing, expanding her energies for all the things she held close to her heart. He garden was her escape. A place to escape her crazy world.
She left specific instructions of how she wanted to be remembered. Fine to think she can go on being socially useful even after she’s dead. Making plants grow.
It was a little after 7:30 am. We were about a half hour late. She always liked to get started early on her twice daily walk. I told her the radar indicated that the rain would be here shortly. I could tell by the look she gave me that she couldn’t wait. So off we went. Sure enough the rain started about five minutes into our walk. Ten minutes later it was a delude. She wasn’t happy.
It was late afternoon Monday June 8, 1953. As we drive to my grandmother’s I remember seeing a refrigerator in a tree. For an seven year old that didn’t make sense. Her street of old two story homes was now what looked like a messy lumber yard.
There were a few people, some walking, some sitting on the ground, with a daze look in their eyes, rummaging among their damaged possessions looking like the walking dead. The amazing thing was that there was total silence. There was no wind. It was a time when the world stood STILL.
Staring what I call my Civil Rights Tour which will include stops in Montgomery, Selma, Birmingham, and Tuscaloosa Alabama, Sumner Mississippi, Memphis and Nashville Tennessee. But we stop first in Plains Georgia to visit the birthplace of our 39th President, Jimmy Carter.
We stayed at the Plains Historic Inn in the 1970 Presidential Suite