From the waiting room, I calmly make my way through the double doors into the hallway. The distinctive smell of antiseptics is hard to digest. Why are hospitals so cold? The surroundings austere. This is nauseating.
Catherine had wanted to get away for a while. Her life had become an endless succession of disappointments, making it a breeding ground for anxiety, anguish and uncertainty.
She managed to book a quaint rustic cottage in rural Spain for the summer. As she arrived and made her way down the cobbled steps towards the shed, she felt a sense of calm prevail.
The antiquated desk was pushed back against the window. Catherine hesitantly opened the top right drawer to find an incomplete handwritten manuscript. She pulled up the chair, and sat to complete the story. It was her story.
Word Count: 100
This post was written as part of the Friday Fictioneers Challenge hosted by Rochelle. The idea is to write a short story (100 words), based on the photo prompt provided.
I really struggle with trying to capture the essence of the story in 100 words, but quite enjoy the challenge.
To read more interesting stories, click on the blue frog.
Warning: No spoilers. Just some minor plot details and eye candy of course.
My daughter is 9. For her 10th birthday (coming up in just a few weeks) she wants a sleepover. We don’t do sleepovers. Not just yet.
She asked me to take her shopping this past weekend, because she needed a ‘cold shoulder top’ that I wasn’t allowed to buy for her, on my own.
She asks for my phone so she can call her friend and they talk for an insane amount of time! It’s getting to a point where she doesn’t want me to hear her conversation. We all know how that plays out eventually.
At the angelic age of nine, she comes home one afternoon singing ‘Closer’ by The Chainsmokers because – hello mom, all the girls in school know it! By the time I’ve mastered the lyrics (because I try to be the ‘cool’ mom, or so I think), she is singing ‘Shape of You’ by Ed Sheeran. The actual one, not the dentist one floating on Facebook. I take consolation in the fact, that perhaps she doesn’t understand the lyrics, and is just singing along with her friends, because she is still just 9 people! Just 9!
In the midst of all her craziness (bordering on sassiness), I try to reinforce the more meaningful things in life. I try to be a mom.
These are the things I remind her of in my own ways and hope she will be able to take some of it with her as she grows up.
Reconnecting with your friends from ‘back in the day’ is oddly fulfilling. A completely different time in your life. A time of laughter, craziness, heartache and tears! A time when these friends were your heart and soul. Nothing in your life could possibly get done without that quick ‘call and consult’ with your friend. A time when the biggest responsibility was perhaps just getting out of bed in the morning! A time of fierce loyalties among friends and conflicts the same (blame it on the teenage hormones!). A time of self-doubt, wanting to fit in desperately, and trying to understand the Pythagoras Theorem in all it’s glory.
Forgetting this memoir is simply not possible. I read ‘When Breath Becomes Air’ a few months ago, and recently picked it up again. There are a few books that pull me in completely as I am reading them. Those are the ones that stay with me, and those are the ones I pick up again and again to read my best-loved parts. Just as I did when I was a child. When Breath Becomes Air is one such book.
Yesterday I took the day off! I was done. I needed a break from this ‘mom gig’ I have going. I would find a quiet corner, read my book, blog, have some tea, and make summer plans (that didn’t actually involve sitting in a plane). Unfortunately, it did not quite pan out as I had anticipated. But it sure did sound good in my head. Even so, I did attempt it, and told my kids, ‘Mama is off today. Don’t call me. Don’t ask me any questions. I don’t exist today’.
They both laughed.
My son, who is morphing into a teenager soon, and I – get along very well. Wait, let me rephrase that. We did get along very well. Lately though, I don’t know what it is, but things are – let’s just say different. He talks when he feels like it, he is harder to sway when he has formed his opinion, his relationship with his sister falls into the ‘love/hate’ category and his whole room is a school-projects-due-tomorrow zone! Continue reading