“Graham, you simply have to pull yourself together, old chap, it won’t do any good.”
“She’s gone, gone off with your wife, no less – I knew she was a bad influence, flighty, undisciplined and full of crackpot ideas. You should have kept her in hand when you had the chance!”
“Now steady on there, it takes two to tango, don’t you know!”
The raindrops pelt my hair, my face, my arms, my hands until I am drenched.
I stand in the empty street, arms outstretched, palms turned upwards, embracing the clouds above.
I know eyes are watching me from behind nets, behind doors held slightly ajar and deep in the shadows just out of reach of the streetlight’s glare.
I know they are whispering behind hands and underneath raised eyebrows – to them I am the woman who has lost her mind with grief, for nobody sane stands in the street, in the rain, in her nightgown.
But I do – it is a relief to feel something other than the weight of profound loss – it is a relief to feel so refreshed.
Here is this week’s entry into the weekly challenge brought to us by the lovelyRochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Here are the rules: Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes my offering for this week – and I welcome your comments again!
“Dad! Dad! Can you hear me?”
“Yes, Freya, loud and clear.”
“You’re so far away, on the other side. I can hardly see you.”
“I can see you just fine, sweetheart.”
“I wish –”
“I know. But wishing won’t change anything. It will just make you miserable. I want you to be happy.”
“We all miss you, Dad.”
“You don’t need to miss me. I am always here. Right here, where it matters.”
A gentle warmth enveloped me, even though the air was chill this morning. Yes. My Dad is always here.
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Click on the blue froggy below to read others’ offerings!
