WINDOWS
Looking out of this window I am twenty again, in my
first flat, swallowing tears and trying not to admit I’m homesick to Dad, who
is fixing my aerial. I might stay here all day.
Yesterday’s window was open to Mediterranean air, the
rattle of palm leaves in the breeze and click of cicadas.
Tomorrow – who knows? As long as my memory still
functions I can be anywhere I choose. Anywhere other than here.
I always imagined my last sight on this earth would be
my children’s faces, not bare white walls, zigzag lines on a screen, and masked
strangers.
.......................................................................................................
I'm still here, still fighting, still writing - though not as much as I should, but this pandemic seems to have frozen some of my brain! One bright note is that I am now in a bubble with my daughter and granddaughter, and was able yesterday to pick our five-year-old up from school, bring her home with me, and dig potatoes. Simple joys make life worth living.
This week's photo prompt took me to a darker place, somewhere I hope not to experience personally, but I know people who have been there.
Thanks to Rochelle for the photo and for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog https://rochellewisoff.com/

