This week’ we can choose one of two prompts, and I have chosen:
“And then there are the times when the wolves are silent and the moon is howling.” ― George Carlin
Please do go and check out the other entries by visiting the co-hosts’ blogs and finding the InLinkz linky thing! There are some very talented writers out there… I will visit each and every one as soon as I can!
– Tilt –
The twelve days were blistering in their heat. Days when, if normality had reigned, if nothing had changed, if life had continued in its usual pattern, I would have been encased in an office, shaking my fist whilst summer launched itself with fierce abandon.
But this year, normality tilted. In the great scheme that life has for us, nothing of note took place. And yet our family was filleted like a slab of meat falling prey to the butcher’s knife.
We took our turns in that small room, hoping, praying, wishing for the miracle that would not come. And so we watched you leave us, by second, by minute, by hour, by day, by night.
The last day arrived. The last morning, noon, afternoon and evening. I knew. I could tell. How could it be anything other than the end now?
I spent some time – after – standing at the window with my back to you, holding myself tightly, staring at the ghosts of bushes and shrubs silhouetted in the gloom, feeling the summer breeze raise the hairs on my arms. Dusk – the between time. Reflecting the limbo in which I had now been thrust. The world should have imploded, and yet – it did not.
your resonance lingers
speaking volumes in my heart