SHOES
We hadn’t bought a map, preferring
always just to explore, so we simply wandered through the town. Most of the
narrow streets were busy with locals carrying shopping, calling to each other
from balconies, or sunning themselves on the pavement – the kind of scene we’d
hoped to discover when booking our holiday.
But one district was eerily quiet.
Outside several doors lay a pair of child’s shoes, faded and filled with
cobwebs.
In a cafė we asked
about them. The owner crossed herself. “Years ago
the earthquake destroyed a school – some parents still wait.”
................................................................................
How could I write about anything else this week when any parent's nightmare has been brought to life on our television screens? Thanks to Sarah Potter for the photo prompt and to https://rochellewisoff.com/ for hosting Friday Fictioneers.
Lizy, that was so beautifully told.
ReplyDeleteThanks Helen.
DeletePowerful. What these poor people must be going through I can only imagine.
ReplyDeleteDigging desperately towards a child's voice, hoping it's not too late.
DeleteI don't even want to imagine. Beautifully written, Liz.
ReplyDeleteThanks Dale.
DeleteSo happy to see you again , Liz. Welcome back. Hope you had a good vacation.
ReplyDeleteThis is such a moving story. Sad for the parents of the little ones.
What a lovely welcome back, moon, I had a lovely time.
ReplyDeleteDear Liz,
ReplyDeleteOf course I think of all of the parents in Mexico who've lost children in the recent earthquake. Beautifully written story. Welcome back.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thanks Rochelle, it's good to be writing again. There wasn't a spare moment in Canada!
DeleteThat's pertinent to today, and timeless. Beautifully written
ReplyDeleteTourists often surf the surface of such places. Thanks for commenting, Neil.
DeleteA sad story well written. It sparked memories of when I visited a area after the big Asian tsunami.
ReplyDeleteWere you able to help or only to observe?
Deleteyou'd never realize what you encounter when traveling. for one thing, it deepens your perspective as a human being.
ReplyDeleteSo true, plaridel, and thanks for commenting.
DeleteOh. Your story was too close to current events. Excellent storytelling. Also read down several posts and felt the same enjoyment. Keep your stories coming.
ReplyDeleteThank you Susan, especially for reading more than one story, I often wonder if anyone does!
DeleteSuch a sad scene. I could feel the sadness and quiet dignity.
ReplyDeleteThanks Alistair.
DeleteThis is so terribly tragic
ReplyDeleteOur hearts ache for those parents.
DeleteAnd in Mexico they're still hoping. :-(
ReplyDeleteA poignant and sensitively written piece.
ReplyDeleteClick to read my FriFic!
Thanks Keith
DeleteSo sad, especially taking into account the school buried in Mexico City's earthquake.
ReplyDeleteThat was the thought in my head when I wrote it.
DeleteHow horrible for those parents. What a nightmare. It breaks my heart to watch them dig through the rubble on TV.
ReplyDeleteHow long can any buried children last without water? Finding you were a day too late would be worse than knowing they were dead on day one.
DeleteI heard a surgeon telling that the worst thing was to find dead children with faces streaked with tears.
DeleteOh gods! That's broken my heart, Bjorn.
DeleteThis is so close to what I read in news today... the shoes that's left behind is a powerful springboard to another story. Yours is devastating.
ReplyDeleteThanks you - I think.
DeleteHow sad it must be for parent in a time like this. Very well told story.
ReplyDeleteAwful - one can't bear to think too hard about it, yet we can't avoid it.
DeleteThis reminded me so much of the Aberfan disaster. Beautifully told.
ReplyDeleteI thought of Aberfan too, Sandra, but decided to keep the location open to interpretation.
DeleteMy heart crumbled at this story. Yes, every parent's worst nightmare. I can't even imagine..... well penned.
ReplyDeleteThaks Vivian.
DeleteSo sad and true to life. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThanks Dawn
ReplyDeleteThis story reminds me of visiting Agadir, Morocco in 1964, four years after a huge earthquake. I was very young at the time, and we came onshore from a cruise. I've never forgotten a particular image of a devastated building, with blocks of rubble on the ground that were the remains of a mosaic floor, and a vulture sat silently atop one of the remaining corners of the building. There was utter silence and a stifling stillness about the place. That was a very eventful cruise, as we were also on the nearest ship to the Lakonia, a Greek-owned cruise ship which caught fire and sank north of Madeira on 22 December 1963, with the loss of 128 lives. I remember seeing an empty lifeboat and lots of debris, but can't recall anyone being rescued. That was the first year I gave the subject of death some serious thought and that it was no respecter of adults or children. It made me wonder what it must have been like for my parents as teenagers during World War 2, not knowing if a bomb would fall on their houses next.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading my story, Sarah - it certainly stirred some memories for you!
DeleteOh, such sorrow. Beautifully written!
ReplyDeleteThanks linda
Delete