Works in progress. Often a ravel of frustration and reward – collecting words, arranging/rearranging words, waiting for the story to reveal itself – in all it’s iterations. Sometimes, a waiting game. Sometimes, simple practice. Let’s call today’s Six Sentence Story…practice 🙂
Like white noise, the Maytag Performa’s wash cycle broke the heavy silence with it’s soft and steady agitation accentuating a silence, she now admitted, was years in the making. Annaliese probed the expansive planes of her mind; like a buzzard circling over road kill on an isolated desert highway, she returned to the one constant – her instinct, yet wondered…could she trust it? What if fear, her forever friend, had convinced her what she knew in her heart of hearts, wasn’t true. The life that was, that did not survive the catastrophe of circumstance, was lost; no amount of sacrifice could save it, as there existed forces far beyond her control and of such scale she could not imagine possible. And so she sat at an oval kitchen table adorned with a crisp red and robin’s egg blue and sunshine yellow striped table cloth, 4 tightly woven azure blue square place mats, staking their territory, opened her laptop and hoped with all her ailing heart, the keys would type the answers for her; channel the words she must read, words she felt she could not accept even as a part of her screamed silently “what have you got to lose?” That was “the sixty-four-thousand dollar question”, as she’d already lost it all, lost the dream, time had marched on abandoning her, a bride at the alter, to deal with the rubble in the best way she could; for as much as she gave the appearance of a pillar of strength and daring, she was at heart, after all, just a girl.