Friday Fictioneers-In the High Heat of Summer and Blood

old-shoes-cobwebs.jpg

In the heat of summer, we began cleaning my deceased great grandmother’s home. Heavy with pregnancy, I pulled the old shoes from the bottom of the armoire. I felt overwhelmed by the chore and my grief of losing her before Adam was born. Sweat slid down my swollen belly as I filled the first box of many. Old shoes were easy to throw out, but what about the the other antiques? The baby kicked while I worked. Then the nosebleed began. Blood poured down my shirt and the old shoes. Distressed, I pinched my nostrils, and ran outside for relief.

100 words exactly!

Genre: autobiographical, memory, hell I don’t know.

Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers. I’m happy as heck to be inspired to write again. I’m hoping that this priming of the pump will cause the words and stories to flow for me again. Dear Readers, please go to Rochelle’s site to read all of the entries.

Have a terrific day!

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Angel Reborn

Photo credit: unknown

“This was something she would keep hidden within herself, maybe in place of the knot of pain and anger she had been carrying under her breastbone…a security blanket, an ace up her sleeve. She might never use it, but she would always feel its presence like a swelling secret stone, and that way when she let go of the rage, she would not feel nearly as empty.” ― Jodi Picoult, Mercy

Anger

Blood

Bruises

Cuts

Scrapes

Tears

Raven Haired Beauty

Broken Heart

Broken Wings

Shoes on Point

Broken Smile

She stands on her own

She extends her arms

And her beautiful legs

She smiles

Feels the music in her soul

No need to hear it

She doesn’t need anyone to help her dance

She stands on point

Fingers brush through her raven hair

She holds her delicate arms above her head

And does a perfect Chaînés

In that first turn, she lets go

And knows that she does not need him to hold her up anymore

She is free

To dance, to feel, to live

There’s no need for wings for her to fly