Neither Rain, nor Snow, nor Sleet. #FFfAW

Photo credit, (c) Yinglan.

He was always at this park on Saturdays.  I’d notice him whenever I took my dog for the nightly walk.  After I’d lived here for about nine months, I noticed the weather didn’t matter.  He was here every Saturday evening, and only Saturday evenings.

His clothing was shabby; his cheeks, red.  I imagined on the nights I didn’t see him, he must stay at the shelter.  One night I stopped to talk.

“Hey, I’m Fran.  Isn’t it a little cold to be out here?”

“Doesn’t bother me.  My lady and I, we’d come here every Saturday night.  I can picture here right there.  We’d sit on that bench.”  Shivering, he showed me a smiling photo of her on that bench.

“When is the date over?”  I asked, worried he might freeze.

He looked at a broken wrist-watch.  “Half an hour.”

“I don’t think she’d mind leaving early.  It’s a bit cold.  Can I walk you to the shelter?”

He shrugged and smiled sadly.  “Yeah, there’s soup.  Maybe she’ll show up next week.”

**172 words

***The challenge is to write a short piece of flash fiction in response to a provided picture prompt of 100-150 words (+ or – 25 words, thank goodness :)).  You can view other stories or jun the fun at FFfAW.

Thank you for stopping by on a snowy evening!  You never know the difference you could make.  Of course, it is not snowy here, but I can imagine.  🙂

1/01/17 Waiting. #freeverse #poetry

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Purgatory
Is the hospital waiting room
On New Year’s day.
News does not arrive, so I wait an hour.

Then wait some more.

A woman in the next room howls with grief.                                                                                      Her son is gone.

Her shock rings in my bones.

And I am stuck in between two places,

praying my emotions will soon soar with relief, yet feeling her pain.

I still wait.

A mother does this for her child…..              Still hoping the news is good,

I will go to the bowels of grief and unknowing pain for you, if that is the place to find you

Every time, when one time is too many to bear.                                                                            Even when torn apart, only to be pieced back together,                                                              these pieces of my heart.

I pray they won’t be broken again                                                                                                            while raising my chin to the heavens in thanks.