Flash Fiction – Falling through clouds

lucy-sol

Image courtesy of Lucy Fridkin 

 

I am twisting, turning, falling through clouds. Stretching out my hand for you, but you’re not there. You’re never there.

In my dream I was crying and when I wake my cheeks are wet, my tongue tasting tears and despair.

The floorboards are cold against my feet as I pad into the kitchen. I sit at the table, picking at the breakfast my grieving stomach can’t eat, my eyes drawn to your empty chair.

Outside the window the sky turns from mauve, to amber, to its usual self-conscious blue as the sun burns as hot and bright as the hole you left.

 

A rather more reflective piece this week, as the world excitedly gets ready for Christmas some of us aren’t quite ready to celebrate….

Falling through clouds was written for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word story inspired by a photo prompt. You can read the other entries on host Rochelle’s blog, here.  

Grief – Two Years On

sad-girl

 

Two years ago my heart shattered and the colour was sucked from my soul, leaving only shades of black and grey. The fabric of my being was irrevocably altered and I knew I would never be the same again.

In those endlessly dark early days getting out of bed was difficult, putting one foot in front of the other unfathomable, the thought of the world still turning impossible.

I clung tightly to the platitudes. Time would heal. I would learn to celebrate the life that was, not the loss that was left. Sometimes I wonder if that is true. Has it got easier or if I have become adept at pretending? Have I just mastered the art of not making others uncomfortable? I can stretch my face into a smile now at will, and nod I am fine, yes I’m looking forward to Christmas, but inside I am just as broken, and today, two years on, I feel the rawness of grief just as keenly. What can I do but plaster over the wound with words?

I write. And I think. And I miss you.