Mary didn’t regret anything she’d done in any aspect of her life. Dancing across memories wearing chrysanthemum shoes, she sidestepped the dead and dying with equal conspiracies of artificial tears. At least this is what she told herself as she walked from room to room tiptoeing across the grasping hands of sunlight burning color out of old carpet.
She felt no grief. There were only moments of fantastic jubilant doubt that brought everything into focus and then back out again, as if there were rabbit ears from an antiquated television set attached to her life. She didn’t make any adjustments, but instead accepted the view she was given without question. Sadness was not her enemy and happiness was not her friend, since neither could be trusted to remain for more than a brief stopover before retreating.
After picking up a discarded pizza box, she remembered how its arrival had rendered smiles and satisfaction just the night before. Now, with its contents consumed, it was destined to join the rest of the world’s discards where garbage grows in fields of wild, odd decaying weeds.
The photograph of a runaway child stared at her from an empty milk carton. It would join the pizza box on that forgotten bit of prairie where Natives once danced and died not so very long ago. She studied the child’s face; the ink grey smile didn’t betray an inkling of what was to come.
Mary closed the garbage bag as the whistle from the steel yard went off. Its shrill song momentarily shattering the stillness of agitated mental journeys. The cold frost of the morning air thrilled her. Hope was due for a visit. She could feel its approach from just over the horizon.
She put the garbage bag on the curb. The devil was in the details and sorrow would not be welcome at her door today. She would leave it where it was and run towards the first glimmerings of beckoning possibility.
Awesome imagery, as all your writing has, and the words dance within the confines of the paragraphs. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThank you Laura. I thought I'd experiment with this type of writing again.
ReplyDelete"...sorrow would not be welcome at her door today." I love this. I love the whole story. Just lovely.
ReplyDeleteThank you Jax. Actually that was one of the first lines that came to me as I was writing this. I knew it would either be the last line or close. Ironically I also took out the garbage today too.
ReplyDeleteWe all like to pretend we're unfazed by the happenings that consume our time wholly. Although everything we go through, truly, brings us to some new point of viewing our world.
ReplyDeleteWe purchase things in an effort to find happiness, then discarding them just as surely as all the joy is bled out of whatever the object is. Sadly, there is no buying happiness... no matter how much money we might have. It seems it'd be best to throw out all of our past mistakes and embrace the unknown future. Aiming towards surest betterment is the right key.
This piece seemed to echo of such wise things wonderfully! Always a pleasure to read you, Rach. :)
jkb
Thank you for such a well-thought out comment James. I like looking at seemingly mundane behaviors and trying to find deep meaning in them. I mean when I'm taking out the garbage, I'm not necessarily thinking about garbage, but what is going on in my life.
ReplyDeleteloved the wearing chrysanthemum shoes, that was a beautiful image
ReplyDeletemarc nash
Thank you Marc. I wasn't sure if that was over-the-top of not. No idea where I came up with that one.
ReplyDeleteRachel, I read this three times, mainly because I just love the way it sounds, but also because I was trying to choose a favorite description. There's simply too much gorgeous imagery in this to do that though.
ReplyDeleteHowever, this line: "Sadness was not her enemy and happiness was not her friend, since neither could be trusted to remain for more than a brief stopover before retreating." is what got me the most. So many have felt that and never knew how to say it, yet you say it eloquently. And somehow you make it seem effortless.
This is a favorite.
Thank you Deanna. I try to remind myself of that a few times this year. Somehow it all came together in that line while I was writing. I'm glad you liked it.
ReplyDeleteI perked up from the first line. Immediately thought, that's a different characteristic from the main characters of your recent #fridayflashes. What a lovely philosophy she's got, even if the devil is dancing around her curves.
ReplyDeleteThank you John. Yes I'm slowly trying to crawl out of the hole of extremely dark people. Not that I won't revisit them, but it's nice to write about someone reaching for hope instead of a knife.
ReplyDelete"Dancing across memories wearing chrysanthemum shoes"
ReplyDelete"..as if there were rabbit ears from an antiquated television set attached to her life."
"..moments of fantastic jubilant doubt"
Were my three favorite phrases, but the whole is what gets you.
Love the way your mind works Rachel.
*happy sigh*
Beautiful images throughout this piece. I was transported away to Mary's world from the first line.
ReplyDeleteThank you Karen. I always think I go too far. Thank you for letting me know that it's OK to do that sometimes.
ReplyDeleteThis is so lovely. Fantastic imagery in there, definitely one to read more than once.
ReplyDeleteOops Sam, your comment was accidentally sent to my spam box, but thankfully I caught it. Thank you for your comment. I'm glad you liked my story.
ReplyDeleteThank you also for your comment Rebecca, your comment was with Sam's in spam, so note to self, fix my spam filter.
I think when I write tightly like this, it forces me to come up with imagery like this. No idea really.
Like many other commenters, I had difficulty choosing my favourite phrase because there are so many beautiful descriptions here! I think I like "grasping hands of sunlight burning color out of old carpet" best.
ReplyDeleteLyrically enchanting and aesthetically magical.
ReplyDeleteAdam B @revhappiness
Thank you Kari and Adam for your comments. I think perhaps I'll do a collection or series of these stories based on how much have enjoyed writing this and last week's story and the responses they've both received.
ReplyDeleteRachel, this is lovely, Extremely eloquent, bordering on poetry, and wonderfully descriptive.
ReplyDeleteThank you for taking the time to comment Steve. I really have enjoyed this type of writing lately.
ReplyDeleteThis was wonderful Rach! Very smooth.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the comment. So many wonderful comments this week. You guys are all the best.
ReplyDeleteJust beautiful, Rachel. Gorgeous imagery, and so much poetry in this. My favorite line among about a hundred favorite lines is the "chrysanthemum shoes".
ReplyDeleteMary seems very wise and realistic in the midst of all this poetry.
Wonderful piece.
This is very zen. As everyone else said, fantastic imagery and word choices. You are an amazing writer!
ReplyDeleteThank you for your comments Gracie and Shannon. Yup, I think I'm definitely going to do a series of stories like this. Thank you for the encouragement.
ReplyDeleteWonderful imagery and mood. Love your use of language.
ReplyDeleteThere's something very 'painterly' about your work. Always such vivid imagery.
ReplyDeleteThe wonderful imagery drew me in from the first line. I agree with Icy that it is word painting. You are indeed gifted with words..:)
ReplyDeleteThank you for taking the comment Laurita, Icy, and L'Aussie. There really is no such thing as too much feedback. I really appreciate every single comment I receive.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous story as usual, Rachel. I loved "Hope was due for a visit. She could feel its approach from just over the horizon." We all need to feel that way more often.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the comment and yes we do. I think that's why I put it there. We all need to believe that hope is coming because it's just too easy to get caught up in our problems and forget that everything is temporary. Sooner or later everything passes.
ReplyDeleteLoved the rabbit ears line (among many others!), but "Hope was due for a visit" will stay with me a while
ReplyDeleteMazz, thank you for your comment. I liked that rabbit ears line myself. It made me think of my grandmother's old TV and we'd spend so much time adjusting those stupid rabbit ears to get good reception. I had a TV like that in my office as just something to watch the local news on, but now that analog is gone, I had to throw the rabbit ears away and get cable.
ReplyDeleteExcellent story. It read quite smooth, almost like a poem. Great descriptions throughout.
ReplyDelete"Mary didn’t regret anything she’d done in any aspect of her life. Dancing across memories wearing chrysanthemum shoes, she sidestepped the dead and dying with equal conspiracies of artificial tears.."
ReplyDeleteLovely piece Rach, it sucks you in from the first paragraph "chrysanthemum shoes" let's the reader know he/she is in for a sensory treat and you do not disappoint. It's interesting too that in between the lovely, unexpected descriptions I found myself wanting to know more about Mary, well done...
Debra Marlar
your writing evokes such emotion in your images, it's very beautiful. I look forward to it every week.
ReplyDeleteEric, Debra and A.S. thank you so much for the lovely comments on my story. I think the #fridayflash community is really the best writing community I've ever been a part of.
ReplyDeleteVery lyrical imagery and melancholic mood. Or is it me, in this gray and chilly autumn day? heh
ReplyDeleteNo matter, I loved the story all the same. :)
Thank you Mari, and yes I guess it was supposed to be melancholic if not introspective. Often we are looking deeply into ourselves and experiences, there's some melancholy that comes the surface. Usually in the from of regrets, but of course, Mary doesn't believe that she regrets anything.
ReplyDeleteinteresting how you branch out a character's thoughts from one single activity of taking the garbage out. reminds me TS Elliots journey when he foresaw what he saw as a wasteland.
ReplyDeleteThank you Lionel, and really until you said that I didn't realize I had done that. T.S. Eliot, now there's a comparison I'll never live up.
ReplyDelete"she walked from room to room tiptoeing across the grasping hands of sunlight burning color out of old carpet." So many comments, and all deserved. I love this line in particular, but as someone else said, it is the whole that matters. There is not a wasted word here.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the comment. You guys have given me a lot to live up for this week's story.
ReplyDeleteSuch a visually stunning piece, Rachel. I liked this one a lot.
ReplyDelete~jon
Thank you for taking the time to comment on my work, Jon, and thank you most of all for #fridayflash.
ReplyDeleteWell, Deanna already claimed my favorite line, so the best I can do is say ditto.
ReplyDeleteAnother lovely lyrical piece, Rachel. I've enjoyed much of what I've read here, but I really love the direction you're taking more recently too. Combine some of your previous themes with the insight you so often show, present it in this poetic fashion, keep firing off these superb lines from which it's impossible to choose a favorite, and I can see you rocketing off to fame and fortune--an unstoppable literary force.
Hyperbole? Perhaps, but not intentionally. I'm really loving this stuff, Rachel. Honestly, a great "welcome back" to the world of Friday Flash. Keep 'em coming!