If I shut my eyes I still see their white dresses.
I can still smell the the freshly baked cakes, the coffee and the lilacs in bloom.
I was only twelve and they were older.
When I close my ears I hear them poking fun at me.
My knuckles tightened around the handle of the shovel.
I gritted my teeth and swallowed my pride.
Once, twice …
It’s long ago, and I’m the only one who knows what’s hidden underneath.
I sip my coffee as I start to write:
“Once there was a little boy with three big sisters … “
I didn’t think I would come up with anything this week until I started to think about all the empty chairs and filled them with people now absent. I hope the story is possible to understand, there are a few blanks to fill in. I hope to be able to read as many as possible this week also but it can take a few days before I get through.
Rochelle selects a picture each week and also set the example, we follow and tries to find our own story.
March 28, 2018