Tuesday Tales and a Picture is Worth 300 Words


Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.





A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific prompt each week. Most of the time we write to a certain word. This week we write to a picture prompt. I chose the General Store.   You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my new yet-to-be-named WIP.











 
The old doors begged for a fresh coat of paint for mercy against the elements. Chipping pieces of wood pressed woefully against the glass panes of old windows cushioned inside the decaying frames. How there were no cracks or breaks, I’d never know. Then again, everything was built so much better back in the day. People took loving care using their hands to forge masterpieces using only hand tools and imagination. The tornado even spared this landmark. How ironic my husband wasn’t considered untouchable from Mother Nature, but, a structure was.

Closing my eyes, I shook my head, dumping the negativity out of my brain like unwanted beach sand. I had to stop thinking it was personal. Storms weren’t personal, they were magnificent, sometimes dangerous, elements of the fickle atmosphere we lived in. I couldn’t revel at the snowflakes, if I couldn’t give a tornado its’ own respectful due. Hell, the tornado itself didn’t take the life of dear Garrett, it was the aftermath. And, maybe, some carelessness on his part.

Carelessness…on his part? Shit. I was horrible.

I wasn’t ready to lay blame on the father of my child. How could I fault him for being dead? Wasn’t that being bitchy, cold-hearted, or judgy?

The old store wasn’t in the line of destruction, it just happened to be a few blocks south. Maybe next time it wouldn’t be so lucky, and would end up spread across four states. Maybe we could build a new city, all underground, away from the whipping destructive gales. Maybe we could all walk around encased in bubble wrap too. Yeah, that was logical.

I felt like that building- standing bravely amidst torrents of rainy emotions, blustery gossip, heated misconceptions, cloudy innuendos, and sunny hopes. The past two years threw more at me than many folks suffer in a lifetime.

I didn’t break, although I bent further than was comfortable more than once. Pretty soon, I could kiss my own ass if people kept challenging me. I giggled at my own joke, and the random thought of trying to lick my elbow too.

Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of selected picture prompts-  Tuesday Tales Main


Comments

Excellent scene. I can feel her frustration and anger. Well done.
V.L. Locey said…
Such a great excerpt!
I love how she compared the old building to her husband and their outcome after the storm. Great snippet!
Cris Martin said…
THAT was an AMAZING scene. Your writing is so fluid. Thought provoking and reflective. LOVED IT 💟

Popular posts from this blog

Demise on Top of a Mountain...Blue Ink-Tuesday Tales

Just Out of My Grasp -- Life with Chronic Illness

Tuesday Tales and a Fussy Body