Wednesday March 30th, 2016

The exercise:

Write about something that is: crumbling.

Took some pictures in the apricot blossoms after dinner with Kat and Max. Mostly with the intention of getting some final baby belly shots of Kat, but Max stole the show, as usual. I think this one is my favorite:

Going out for dinner tomorrow night with everybody on the farm to celebrate Kat's birthday. One last dinner for nine before we get into the dinners for ten.

Strange thought.


This place has grown old. When did this happen? It seems as though I only looked away for a moment...

Where there was once growth, now decay has taken root. Windows that used to allow in only the brightest rays of sunshine are yellowed with dirt, leaving the interior in a murky gloom. Dust. Dust is everywhere suddenly.

Neglected. That is the word that continually springs to mind as I survey my surroundings. It is a shame. All that was needed was a little care and attention... and love. Is it too late to turn the tide? I feel as though it is, but perhaps that is just my pessimism speaking.

Open a window, let fresh air and sunlight in. Ignore the illuminated wear and tear. Forget the crumbling furniture and the wallpaper peeling off the walls. Light some candles. Scented, preferably. Go outside, get some flowers from the garden for the kitchen table.

Ah, yes. Outside. So close yet so far. The door is locked and I no longer have the key. It must be somewhere around here. I just have to find it. That's all. Get to work, look everywhere, leave no dark corner uninspected. I need to get out of here. I have been trapped inside my head for too long.

It's all so faded though. So... decrepit. Memories are so much harder to find these days, both the old and the new. When did this happen? It seems as though I only looked away for a moment...


Greg said...

Max is cute in that picture: has he cut his finger though? There's something blue there :)
I really like the way your piece progresses today, and the last two paragraphs bring it all very nicely to a head, with the revelation of how things have come to crumble, and the suggestion that maybe it has only really been a moment and everything changed. Or that it really only felt like a moment and everything changed. There's a kind of sense of loss there and a lack of understanding... beautiful really!

Castles built of sand, lined along the strand,
Raising their defences 'gainst the sea.
Unobserved, in creeps an enemy.
Moments flow like years, the sea tastes of ancient tears,
Broken walls try in vain to be
Like they were last century.
Increasingly they crumble, and with a final rumble, they
Negligently slide into the sea.
Graves were never built so beautifully.

Marc said...

Greg - good eye spotting the band-aid! I don't remember what was going on there. Maybe a sliver he wouldn't let us get out.

Thank you for the kind words on mine. I recall liking how this one turned out myself.

That's an effin' beautiful acrostic. The final four lines in particular, but I love the opening four as well. One of my favs of yours I think.