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Weekly Contest #70
As I walk through this field of poppies I think of the days before. The days when mother would tell me ‘everything is going to be all right’ and when I believed it to be true. I was naïve to think so. Back then, father loved mother, and my brother, Colin, and I got along. But that was then: now everything is not all right. Mother passed away three years ago, and nothing has been the same since then. She used to sing “I See the Moon” to me every night as she tucked me in, and now I sing it once again in this poppy field. Mother said that s...
Down near the brook at the edge of town, an old woman sat on her honey-yellow cloth sofa watching a rerun of ‘Bewitched’ on her cable television. The woman picked up her crinkled sudoku book from under the side table and eased her mind to its repetitive deduction. Each day, she enjoyed toast paired with orange juice for breakfast, then sat on the sofa to read the Sunday paper. She would flip past the articles heading straight for the comics, her favorite entertainment, besides the sudoku on the back page, of course. ...
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