Memory Jar

Photo prompt: © Priya Bajpal

 

“Can I take one now?”

“Breakfast first.”

Deena sighed. She ate her oatmeal and drank her milk, but her eyes kept returning to the seashell table Dad had gotten for Mom. Before. To the jar that usually stood on the mantel. Since.

Finally, Grandma rose and put her mug in the sink.

Now that it was time, Deena hung back. She remembered filling the jar, with Grandma, after the accident, when memories were fresh and both their hearts were broken.

Grandma took her hand. “Come. Reach in. Pick one, and you’ll see – the right moment with them will find you.”

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

A Little Closer

vugust on tumblr

Photo: vugust on tumblr

 

“Granpa is no here anymore,” he stated, morose, “he go back to very far.”

The little boy raised impossibly long-lashed honey eyes to me but I didn’t think he was looking at anything in the room. His eyes were seeing through the walls and out to where a presence is not constrained by oceans, mileage, and topography.

His little face was pinched in a sad frown and he fingered the edge of his shirt, before taking in a long breath that seemed to fill not only his lungs but also return the sparkle into his eyes. He pointed a small finger at the center of his chest. Exhaled. Took another breath.

“But Granpa no really faraway,” he declared, the last two words blended into one in a sing-song. “My heart think so he only little closer very far.”

 

 

For The Daily Post

Descend to Calm

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Photo: O. Asif

 

If your head fleets up and flitters

Filled with too much

And too fast …

Change course

Decelerate and

Descend back to

Calm ground.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Be in the Pink

Storycubes1

If your heart groans

Under worry

And your belly

Plays acid songs,

Don’t despair:

Life’s still there.

If your head spins

With confusion

In realities

Beyond compare,

Don’t give up:

There’s repair.

If your muscles

Clench with anger

And anxiety

Sheds your hair,

Don’t give in

To what’s not fair.

If your color

Lost its luster

And your spirit’s

Pale and bare,

Don’t lose heart:

We’ve hope to spare.

If the dark nights

Press your innards

And your lungs

Beg for calm air,

Don’t forget:

Love’s everywhere.

 

 

For The Daily Post