She saved my life.
She found me laying naked at the woods behind her neighborhood. I was cold and feverish. My back was hurt. 2 big cuts near my shoulder blades.
I had no idea of who, where, when and why I was. My mind was completely blank.
They said it was amnesia and she took care of me. Like a guardian angel.
My memory never came back, but I learned to love her. And she loved me too.
We got married and were very happy. Then she got sick.
It was my turn now to care for her. I did all I could to make her feel better and comfortable at her illness. I gave my life to her. I stopped working, ate just a little, slept lightly so I could hear her calls. It was her turn to call me her guardian angel.
But after some time, her body gave in and she drifted away.
At that very moment I felt a sharp pain on my back, right at the scars near my shoulder blades. The scars opened up and from within something came up.
And with the wings, the memory of being sent from heaven to care for her on her illness that was already invisibly starting then.
I looked up and saw her spectral form, reaching her hands to me, calling me to go.
I fluttered my wings and off we went.
Together again, until my next call to earth.
This post was written based on the prompt Angels, from Writer Write’s October prompts.
‘Angels’ was actually the theme for October 1st, but today I decided to switch as I couldn’t come up with nothing worth writing for today’s theme: Rehab. I’ll keep trying and may publish it later (or not ;o)
Written by my sister, translated by me, as I couldn’t have said it better.
The picture shows grandma with me and my siblings. I’m the very skinny one in yellow next to her.
I had 2 grandmas that taught me a lot.
One was an artist, sort of an airhead. On her house we had no set time to sleep, to eat, or to study. “The” right way of doing things did not exist, what existed was the new way, the way we were still to come up with. She used to give me paintbrushes, paint, clay, scraps of cloth and knitting needles. She taught me that the world inside of us is infinite.
My other grandma, the one I picked, was strong, intelligent and honest. On her house we had a set time for everything, there were closets and rooms off limits, conversations held in French so the kids would not understand. She showed me how to be polite, how to speak English, pictures and books of her travels. She taught me that the world outside of us is infinite.
I had a third grandma that used to intrigue me. During her life she shared very little with me and the other grandkids. She never told us stories from her youth, she never taught me how to make those beef croquettes, she didn’t have the time and she didn’t want to. On her house, we watched TV and felt bored.
A few years ago, when she suffered the first stroke that put her on a health state that would eventually take her, I understood what was it that she has taught me. My third grandma taught me to resist. To have the courage to take whatever comes to our lives. Celina resisted and held on to life until yesterday, at 93 years of age. Always with that look of wanting more and wishing to stay forever. Kisses, grandma.
(the second grandma she said she picked was our grand aunt. the same one I remembered here recently too)
She had loved him since they met. And so did he.
But they couldn’t be together. His wife’s family was very powerful and a divorce would never be accepted.
They loved each other in silence and disguise.
Now he’s gone. A funeral is being held and she can’t show up.
But she needs to say farewell to the only man she truly loved on her life.
She decides to visit him at the cemetery at night, after everyone was gone.
The howling dog, the moon and the creaking boards made for a scaring moment, afraid of being caught.
But no one showed up and she was finally able to say goodbye…
This post was written in response to this week’s 100WCGU, with the prompt …the howling dog, the moon and the creaking boards made for…
In a couple of days will be Halloween and the prompt is sort of inspired by this.
I like Halloween, I’m excited about it, and I am even organizing a party at my place. But for whatever reason, I’m avoiding writing about it. Maybe to take a break from the party preparations?
But that’s how and why I created something different for this prompt. Still cemetery, still scary situation, but nothing to do with the All Hallow’s Eve…. 😉
I hope you enjoy.
The picture was ‘assembled’ by me, based on 3 different ones I got from pixabay.com. One for the cemetery, one for the person, one for the rose…
I’ve been sort of watching some entries to the six word story challenges, promoted by Ben at A Hopelessly Wandering Mind, but it was only today that I decided to try it.
Not happy with trying for this week’s challenge only, I created a story for each of the other weeks I missed too (it was only 7 more, totally manageable ;o)
I also noticed that the stories have some illustration to go with it, and for that I grabbed my Post It pad and my pencil and got doodling a bit. I guess they illustrate my stories somewhat well (I’m not a great doodler, so can’t really do fancy stuff… )
So here it goes:
Week 1: LOSS
Teary eyes, never seeing her again.
Week 2: PASSION
Cannot breathe away from each other.
Week 3: MURDER
A little vessel, a deadly blast.
Week 4: PURGATORY
Job changing, don’t know where to.
Week 5: PREJUDICE
Not good for me, just because.
Week 6: DELAY
Train delayed, she’ll wait no more.
Week 7: BETRAYAL
Lost ring. On someone else’s bed.
Week 8: HELP
Adrift… Help never came. Eternally sailing.