She sold seashells by the seashore.Once.
Now mementos for my fingertips, boxed and sorted
each telling a story.
I remember her windblown hair.
I recall the sand between my toes.
I remember seagulls high above, a stranded jellyfish.
“I will return”, she said. Her hand was sand.
Promises are dust, I’ve waited with her echoes.
Blind I sort my dreams, despair and hope, like bones.
And then one day a call from her.
“I’m waiting by the beach, I’m widowed, come”.
I burn mementos. Leave, and travel far away from sea.
My heart can carry dreams but not deceit.
This picture first inspired me to write a serial killer story, but I decide against more corpses, and opted for melancholy instead. I guess this is a narrative poem of sorts, just experimenting a bit with expressions… I will be around later, I’m very busy at work for the moment.
Friday Fictioneers is a community writing 100 word flashfiction for the same image. Rochelle leads and encourages every week… Join the fun.
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October 19, 2016
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Something a bit different, nice take and achieved the melancholy feel.
This is a new departure for you. I think it works
Beautifully melancholic…i like this piece.
Beautifully melancholic is the right word.
Wow. Well told. There is a deep sadness here
He made the right decision I think. Nice piece!
“Her hand was sand” — my favorite part, so lovely. Wonderful heartbreak story, and to me, much more captivating than another serial killer.
I love melancholy, and this is brilliant.
I love that he walked away.
I dislike it when people play games with peoples emotions.
This worked beautifully. And I was glad that the narrator didn’t come running.
Definitely has that melancholy feel, and like Sandra I’m glad the narrator didn’t go to her in the end, that would have been too easy.
I’m with Sandra and Claire. I was thinking how strong he was after all that sadness to have the strength to walk away. Beautifully written, as per usual (You might want a comma after Blind.)
Oh my, “Promises are dust, I’ve waited with her echoes.” love that line 🙂
Dear Bjorn,
In the end he showed honor and integrity. Beautifully written…a story well told in verse.
Shalom,
Rochelle
This one reminded me of myself a little bit, the first parts at least. It made me wonder and ask myself Does anyone remember me?
Oh, what a mean woman, building up his hopes like that to leave them dashed, and then thinking later that he will come running to her when she deigns to click her fingers.
I love the poetic style. And for me, “Her hand was sand” is the central hub of the story. Well written.
Wonderful poem, I’m glad he didn’t fall for her deceit again!
When I first sat down to write a story for this photo, my mind went to serial killer first as well… but I too decided against that route. I wonder what it is about the knick knacks on the shelves that seem so sinister?
Anyway, lovely writing as usual, Bjorn! Great work 🙂
Bjjorn, this is absolutely beautiful.
Promises are dust – proven in the end when he walks away from all the memories.
Big smile, Alicia
‘Her hand was sand’….. So even then, he somehow knew she was not what he wanted her to be….. I loved this.
I loved every carefully chosen word you used in this poem.
i could understand his situation. when she came back, she was no longer the woman she was waiting for. it was time to move on.
Beautiful last line.
Beautiful take, lovely and sad. Promises can often be dust. Very well written.
Very melancholy as already said but I think he made the rightdecision
This is beautiful and poetic. I hope it isn’t too late for him to get his life back after having been waiting for nothing for so long.
Melancholy, indeed.
There is an epic, inside this tightly woven little piece. One’s mind goes in so many directions, and yet, not a word is wasted (the word – deceit – alone fills in several dozen stanzas) lol.
I like the story very much, Bjorn, especially his fortitude to walk away.
Sometimes, memories are best kept as memories.
Isadora 😎
‘Promises are dust” well what harsh words. great
http://obliqview.blogspot.in/2016/10/the-spoils-prompt-clairefuller-every.html
Really interesting take on the prompt. I enjoyed your venture into melancholy. The last line made me think in a good way. Nice one!
I am so glad he walked away. If he had gone back to her that would have been tragic. Loved the story especially ‘her hand was sand.’ Superb.
This touched me deeply, especially “Her hand was sand.” It left me with the feeling of profound sadness. Thank you.
Oh but you do melancholy so beautifully, Björn; this is haunting! The final line is perfect.