The Skylight

Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Photo prompt: © J Hardy Carroll

 

She always loved that skylight. The one thing she’d insisted on when they’d rebuilt the old farmstead. Every day since, the sun streamed in or the rain puttered on or clouds swam above, transforming the indoors into a moving tapestry.

They’d kept the bones of the building, but the roof had been rotten. It needed redoing.

Like her bones.

She lay on the flagstone floors, sauce dripping onto her from where she must have upset the pot as she’d slipped and fell and something in her broke.

The skylight her only companion. The light fading. The day still long.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

53 thoughts on “The Skylight”

  2. Na’ama Y’karah,

    I love your descriptions of the light through through the skylight. I could see it. I hope someone finds her before it’s too late. Nonetheless, there’s a peaceful feel to the story. Well written as I’ve come to expect.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

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    • Yes, me too …
      This is such a reality for so many … especially older persons, though not only. In my mind’s eye, she’s older and had lived life long and well.
      I hope she’s found soon, and in time to aid with healing. And if not, I hope it is a soft and painless transition, free of fear.
      Thank you, Iain!

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      • Thanks, my friend!
        I was also thinking about the reality of people who live alone and have a bad fall, and of elderly whose risk is even higher, and who don’t seem to think of the possibility of being hurt and alone until AFTER something happens (or if a persistent family member manages to persuade them to have a safety device like Life Alert or something similar …).
        And yet, there’s also the (perhaps fatalistic) reality that sometimes things happen, and sometimes it can be time, and sometimes (say, if someone fell VERY badly) help would not necessarily mean comfort but may mean that last minutes are spent in hectic noise, rather than letting go. So … whatever will happen with the person in my story, I hope she is at peace.

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    • Thanks, Suzanne, for the kind feedback! Yes, I hope that she’s found in time and that all ends well for her. I was aware that it was a realistic possibility for some and I was hoping that it would not be distressing to anyone. Injuries can be tricky, can’t they? Sometimes one doesn’t know how seriously one is injured till later – be it because of adrenaline or endorphins or the realities that the treatment (though necessary) sometimes hurts more than the injury itself … I hope she’ll do well, too … 🙂 Na’ama

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