Thanks Thom for the 3WW words!
Summer seemed both too long and too short. It was suddenly over with a drop or many drops of rain. Four and a half inches so far.
She couldn’t focus. Though her house had no mold–she had it checked constantly, and her eagle nose didn’t detect that horrid distinctive smell, her brain felt moldy.
She couldn’t focus so she attacked the kitchen. She should have been happy when she looked at the almost bare counters, sink and scrubbed almost to perfection appliances. But as she was finishing she could hear her father: “you missed a spot. Do it over.”
Not fair she thought, not fair at all though she knew that if she had been young when diagnosed her father would have searched the world for answers. He would have engulfed her in love; not pointed out all her weaknesses. “So close to perfect. Try a bit more.”
I tried, I tried, she thought.
It was so much easier in her late teens, 20′s and 30′s. First she drowned his words out. She claimed to have the longest adolescence in America. Though she worked and had an apartment somehow she managed to drag it out into sometime in her 40′s.
Somewhere in those years, she made herself indispensable to his life. Or she always had been and hadn’t noticed. Members of her family were constantly in imminent danger. It was her job to sort out the messes; to comfort them; to let them know that they saw too many mountains. Her mother comforted her. But then she became old, blind and frail. It wasn’t fair. No it wasn’t fair, but nobody says life’s supposed to be fair or easy.
She wondered what life would be like if she tampered with her memories? Edited them just a bit so only the good ones stood out. Or day dreamed a more perfect life? That should be a book. But she’s actually making progress on the one she began so long ago. First she needed sun. Copious amounts of sun.
My wisdom has grown damp like the rivers.
Incredible line by Doug Pascover I wish i wrote! His poem was inspired by one by Langston Hughes
Very nice short story, and you can’t give me credit. Langston Hughes wrote a great line “My soul has grown deep like the rivers,” and I just wiggled it.
Dear Doug…you say “Thank you, Pia for worshipping my words.” even if you wiggled them. Sincerely, LBP
This was really good, Pia. Nothing like a little what if on a rainy day.
This certainly had me dusting off the blog for some stories. Been awhile since I had them up. Time to smut it up! Yeah!
@Doug
I will always give you credit. Thanks and listen to Jenn:)
@Jenna Howard
Thanks Jenn!!!! Glad I could get you to dust off the blog. There are more bloggers than ever and way fewer that I know!
Nice story from given word Pia.
It made me sad for her, reading her struggles.
Very well written, I really enjoyed it
)
That was such a poignant story. You made me really empathize with the protagonist.
The sun in a way does show the path. It cleanses us too.
Liked it very much, Pia!
colours lay bare my soul
Excellent as usual.
Very nice! And, in real life, you’ve been getting a bit of rain, or so I heard from friends and family that way
hey, good to see you pia… back there at 3ww had to come by after reading yr comments… i agree, especially so lately, people come by but don’t comment and then i start to wonder wow it’s a blank stare… but then comes along an old blogger friend and everything moves accordingly… do please keep writing i’ve always enjoyed yr stories..
as i read this story i could not help but to say there is a lot more going on in this story than one reads on the surface… little layers like waves roving.. crashing to shore then backtracking… amazing the affect our fathers have us when we are young and impressionable..
This one resonates with me. Nice 3WW. Love and Light, Sender
Summer always seems to end suddenly. Just in a day. You wake up one morning, or maybe go outside one evening, and it’s gone.
I hope you get your required daily allotment of sun.
I can relate to this struggle. In many ways I still feel enshrined in my adolescence. Keenly observed. Multi layered. I really enjoy your writing.