Silence. Once I craved it, breathed caesuras, rare moments when cacophonic demands paused.
My days were filled with “Mother please… “, “I don’t want…” or “Later mom…”. .
Now I polish memories. I cherish absent screams, eyes a-rolling and giggled mockery. In my mind their noise have turned to symphonies.
Every time the telephone rings I hope that I can reconnect with past.
But it’s another insurance salesman.
“Can you insure against heartbreaks? Can you turn sentences unsaid?”
“Leave me alone, I don’t want to see you anymore”
I had screamed. Wish came true.
I learned the difference between solitude and loneliness.
When I see the polished spinet I see unplayed music. Memories, and even loss. So I went quite a melancholic way this week. How can I ever learn to write happy? I’m a cheerful person really.
Rochelle issue a new picture every week on Wednesday for Friday Fictioneers a blogging community writing fiction to the same picture. It can attract up to 100 bloggers every week. I will try to join the Concrit subgroup this week and will try to deliver some feedback and I’m accepting constructive feedback as well.
For those who is interested in participating in another wordlimit challenge we have just started the Quadrille at dVerse. Check it out.
January 20, 2015