You are currently browsing the monthly archive for February 2015.
The photo changed for the last time when Geraldine died. Years ago, it was full of smiling faces lined up on the veranda the day of our big family reunion, the one time we were all together. First we lost Grandpa. I knew the picture was different when his image vanished from it. Then went Uncle Charles. One by one, the family disappeared, the photo more lonely and bare. I’m all that’s left of the group. The only part of the image left now is the family homestead. What will happen to the picture once I, the photographer, am gone?
Here’s a VERY late submission to Friday Fictioneers.
This week’s story started out in my mind as something more melancholy or ethereal. As is usual for me, it didn’t actually come out the way I planned. I never know where my muse will go until she’s already left me behind. 🙂 Hope you like my take on the photo for this week’s Friday Fictioneers. I’m still not sure how I feel about it. Ah, well. There’s always next week.
It seemed like a fun way to spend the day, to lose myself in the beauty of nature. I turned my face to the warmth of the sun, stiff breeze at my back, and entered the maze. I felt an energy the moment I crossed the threshold. No sounds penetrated the green walls. The energy tugged, a faint voice directed me to the center, to the answer to all my questions. As I entered the heart of the maze, the voice said, “Your gift in this life is–”
Awoken from the dream by my stupid cat, now I’ll never know.