Picture courtesy of Melanie Greenwood
The dappled light filtering through the trees brings to mind a time and place where memories linger.
Word count: 102
Amazing Grace
The sun rippled through the weeping willows, dappling her bare arms as they wrapped around her waist. Memories played at the edges of sight, laughter echoing as John chased her through the maze. Her breath caught, remembering how she wanted to be found, to turn to him and surrender to his touch.
The gazebo was their safe spot, but he’d pushed too far. Grace lay on her back looking up at the roof, wondering if he was watching from wherever he was. His final touch, so cold, the fire in his eyes gone. Time dims some memories; others remained forever. She’d said no.
© Erin Leary
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The picture is one that suggests deep memories. A lovely story.
Thanks, Claire. That was part of the inspiration.
I really liked this one Erin. The poetic impact of that last line was terrific.
Thanks. As I mentioned to Gail, the story I was telling was about her doing him in when he didn’t listen to her ‘no’. But that had to be interpreted – no time to detail the shallow grave beneath the gazebo.
This was a very haunting story and what I liked best about it was that the interpretation of events is left open to the reader.
I’m not sure I followed everything here. Who are “they” in the first sentence?
Interesting maze of a tale though. At first I thought it was memory of a rape. But I hope she managed to send him off by saying “no.”
All my best,
Marie Gail
I changed it slightly to make it more clear – and you were right. It’s the memory of an attack, and more obliquely, the memory of her killing him. He’s buried under the gazebo now. I couldn’t quite get all that conveyed this time…but that’s how I saw it.
Good story. I wondered as I read it whether she’d killed him – from reading your responses to the other comments I see I was right. 🙂
Good story! What I got from it was she wanted him to touch her but she told him “No,” and that made him hate her (as if she was a tease). But reading the comments, I see it was different.
Dear Erin,
I just read your explanation to Marie Gail and am rather pleased with myself. I thought that’s what was going on. Well written as always.
Shalom,
Rochelle
A lovel story that is definitely open to interpretation. Having noted your own interpretation above, I confess my initial thoughts were that he was dead and she had killed him, somehow. But then I thought that the fire in his eyes, now cold, referred to the fact that she had rebuffed his advances – resulting in their parting. You have used the memories very well.
I love your imagery – it sets the scene so well for her recollections and her sadness. A tragic ending.