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Luanda, Angola; by Jorje sa Pinheiro
“Why is the top of that mountain rusty?” he asked.
His grandmother’s hand tightened gently around his wrist, then released it, almost in apology.
“For your ancestors,” she said.
He looked at her, uncomprehending. She had a way of speaking without saying everything she meant or with saying more than she meant and then cloaking it so it was still a tangle of implied meanings. He didn’t always know which it was. Or both. Her lined face was held up in what looked more like grief than awe.
“Grandma?” he asked.
“This rust is the mountain holding up the iron bled by your great-grandfather’s chains and the chains of those before him, and before, so many generations that the rust of those shackles rose up. It is the blood of the mountain and like the blood in your veins, it is them. They live in it. They live in you.
For the What Pegman Saw challenge: Angola
powerful – the way you did the last paragraph was power in tone and word set up – longer sentence then shorter leading to the ending “They live in it. They live in you.”
and the image also synced with the grandmother’s seasoned wrinkles
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Thanks for this wonderful comment! I’m gratified that the intensity was communicated, and the analogies … 🙂
Na’ama
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Deep and moving. A powerful analogy supported by the powerful picture you’ve chosen
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Thank you, Crispina. I’m so glad the analogy was communicated, and the photo …
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Indeed. 🙂
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🙂
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When I saw the mountain my first thought was of tear stains. Wasn’t too far off. Well done. Na’ama.
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Thank you, John.
So many slaves were passed through Angola on their way to Brazil, and other slave markets … It was the first thing that came to my mind seeing this magnificent mountain top.
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Touching
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Thanks, John!
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😊
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Wonderfully done, Na’ama. See… I couldn’t find anything to spark a story. Or maybe I am just too damn tired to even try.
I love how much you wove into this.
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Thank you, Dale!
I’m so glad you found that this resonated.
As for your piece — either it’ll come to you, or it is resting time, which is just as important if not more. XOXO
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Nope. If it hasn’t been written by now, it gets flushed. Next week, maybe. I just can’t seem to find the time that I want to write. And I am so behind reading all the FF this week Ugh.
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Flushed sounds good to me. I don’t do those every week, much as I would like to. Life is life, and not every prompt must be responded to. 🙂 We get some of’em and we let go of others. Balance, eh?
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Yep. The thing with prompts is they push me to write. But sometimes it just can’t happen. I try to read every participant in every challenge I do. That gobbles up lots of time, too.
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Yep. It does. I can’t say I always manage to read everyone’s but I try. And I think you are VERY VERY good at doing that! 🙂
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Sometimes, I wish I were a tad less good…
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Want a halo-removal-kit? I have a spare somewhere … 😉
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Wouldya? It’s feeling rather snug
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Sending … if it arrives by a red-horned-little-dudette chewing gum and sporting spiky purple hair, it’s the right kit … 😉
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Rock on!
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Delivery gals these days … 😉
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Seriously.
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😀
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A great truth and tragedy in this one. The line about the grandmother’s face held up in grief says so much.
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Thank you, K!
There is so much history that wasn’t told and nonetheless is part of so many people’s lives and ancestry … I find it meaningful to remind myself of it whenever I can. Because so many people never had their stories told, yet should, in any way we can manage it. I’m gratified if some of it was communicated.
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Love what you said here. That’s what storytellers are here for!
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Amen! And sometimes we get lucky and get a bit of a story communicated through us. I feel much gratitude for it. XO
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Sometimes the only words which will do justice….(if you were born in the 1950s that is) are:
‘Oh man. Wow’
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Thank you … and … I think these words work also for those who were born a bit later … 🙂
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Kinda universal 😃
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🙂 Yes …
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