What Lenny Would Build

 

“I don’t know what to make of it,” Arlene shook her head.

“Of the sunset?” Molly’s already reedy voice rose higher.

Arlene took a deep breath. She forgot just how literal her sister-in-law was.

“No, the sunset is beautiful,” she stated. “And the arches.”

Molly turned to face Arlene. The glow from the ball of fire in the distance rendered one of her cheeks fire-orange, the other ashen-gray.

“So what did you mean?”

Arlene pointed to the oddly shaped building to their right. “This. Looks like what Lenny would build.”

“Lenny is three.” Molly noted.

“Exactly,” Arlene said. 

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo by Dale Rogerson

 

Golden End

ricky-rew-v3Vt8RrwT18-unsplash

Santo Tomas, Spain (Ricky Rew on Unsplash)

 

It was a golden end.

To the day. To their journey. To what they managed to do together, for the first time in a long time without bitter exchanges that gouged their hearts and left them both scarred.

The trip to Santo Tomas was an impromptu thing. The healing they’d invested in was not.

“We could go, you know,” he’d mentioned as she’d browsed to pass the time while waiting outside the therapist’s office. It was always an awkward time, sitting together in the ante room, aware that what came next was lancing boils and airing out things too noxious to attempt alone.

“Can we, though?” she’d replied, layering many meanings.

“I think so,” he’d said.

His hesitation, more than anything, was what had her agree.

The therapist’s hesitation, too. She wanted to prove the woman wrong.

She watched him jog by sun-glow. Her heart warmed. They were going home.

 

 

 

For What Pegman Saw: Santo Tomás

 

 

 

 

Set The Sun

sunset wonderland CA NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Set the sun

Gently behind the loops

Of the day.

Behind the curves and the slopes

That turned your world

Inside out

And your plans

Upside down

And away.

Spread your wings

And head home

To where nestlings

Await

And the feathers of evening

Welcome you

At the gate.

 

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Sunset

 

 

Sun Set

Sun set AtaraKatz

Photo: A.Katz

 

As the sun’s last light

Paints mountains

Red,

May worry find a safe

For stashing

Dread:

That morning might

Not come

Again,

That homes might turn

From hope

To strain,

And children’s cries

Will sound

In pens,

As they wake

More memories

Of pain.

 

 

 

For dVerse Quadrille Challenge: Sun

 

To The Seashore

sunset PortBreton2 SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

I will go to the seashore

Where the waves touch the sky.

I will go to the seashore

To kiss the day fond goodbye.

I will go to the seashore

Where the boats come on home,

And the children still play,

And the sun’s last rays roam,

And my soul sings with the surf

Where it has always belonged.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Seashore in 59 words