Tag Grief
The Right Stuff – Alastair’s Photo Fiction
Here is my offering for Alastair’s Photo Fiction this week, inspired by the photo below. Why not take part? And why not visit his photography and writing blog to take a look at his other photos…?
Copyright – A Mixed Bag
– The Right Stuff –
“Isn’t this what you wanted, Alex?”
“No, why on earth would it be?”
“But you always courted attention, you were always at the centre of things! This should be perfect!”
“If you think a plaque, memorial gates and a champagne reception for the city worthies represent my life’s work, then I wasted far more time than I care to think about.”
Silence follows. Some things never change.
“Sarah. Sarah? Are you alright, dear? Are you ready to go in now?”
I look at the man – some titled chap who had taken it upon himself to ‘look after’ me, the ‘poor Mrs Albright’.
I stand, pull back my shoulders, take a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, I need to cancel all of this. Alex wanted the focus to be on his causes, not him as a person. The money you have raised should go to charity, not be spent on this. I’m so sorry…”
The man takes my hand, a shockingly intimate response. I realise that I haven’t been touched by another person for weeks.
“My dear, I quite agree. Leave it with me. I will deal with the hangers-on.”
I sit down with a thump. I feel a huge relief.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
The silence that follows this time is somehow comforting.
On the Edge – dVerse Open Link Week 114
Here’s my latest entry into the dVerse Open Link – why not take a look at everyone else’s responses?
This piece is in honour of everyone who is striving for balance in their creative and ‘other’ lives. This year for me has been… horrible, and so my creativity has helped me manage all the incessant thoughts racing around in my head. Next year, let it be better…
*****
– On the Edge –
I watched you breathe your last
In that hospital room
With its hospital smells
And the pneumatic mattress
Which continued to sigh
Long after you –
went
I know that nurses continued to laugh
In the long hallway
With the squeaking floor
But silence settled
In those empty moments
Right after you –
left
I write about you, over and over
In this year of my life
With my heart, broken wide
Creativity rescue me
Help me live,
Now that you are –
gone.
Freya Writes... 