At last the tide has turned, term has ended and markings done. Like coming out of a darkened room into the sunshine, my eyes are slowly adjusting to the sunlight, and I’m reclaiming that little bit of me time.
I’ve missed Friday Fictioneers for a few weeks and have felt bereft. If you want to know why, follow the link and have a go. A 100 words of fiction based on the photo prompt provided. Its the greatest bit of entertainment you don’t have to pay for…
Photo Copyright : Stephen Baum
The rain is falling heavily, there is such loneliness about today and everything seems still. In the distance, I see shapes appear then fade: figures on the verge of being. They beckon me over. I stare. They go. Then there’s only me.
Sometimes the figures suggest themselves. They emerge, images of light, fragile images from somewhere past. They come slowly, rising like bubbles from a polluted stretch of water, malodorous and putrid; a magma flow of memories.
They appear without control. With memories, there is little choice. The worst of times are often stronger than the light we fight to reach.
This is so well written.. love how you used punctuation for instance. The memories have a way of coming uninvited don’t they?
Thank you, I’ve been missing a while but glad to be back 🙂
Lovely piece. I like the short sentences at the end of the first paragraph particularly.
Definitely can’t control memories, when or how they choose to come. Fab piece on your return. 🙂
Leo @ I Rhyme Without Reason
Dear Helen,
It’s good to read your voice once more. Welcome back. Well done piece.
Shalom,
Rochelle
This works on so many levels. Awesome piece!
Beautiful. Welcome back.
Oh Helen: you’ve hit so many nails on the head here. Control between your ears is control indeed. Just try not thinking about elephants for a minute.
Good take on the prompt
A beautiful prose-poem, Helen! My favorite lines:
“They come slowly, rising like bubbles … magma flow of memories.”
“The worst of times are often stronger than the light we fight to reach.”
Brava!
Yes, wonderful read. Those blasted memories have a way of intruding at times!
Very good. Your images are powerful, and capture the nature of unwanted memories – a kind of death in life, a shadowy, ghostly lingering of the past.
Oh, I’ve missed you, Helen! It’s good to have you back. You haven’t missed a beat. Why is that the worst times are always stronger than the light? How I wonder. Great work, as always.
A great read, very powerful, and so true. Memories behave as they want.
Helen, welcome back, with this very powerful, atmospheric piece! The punctuation, the tight wording, the evocative scene–– it’s all just gorgeous!