I’m not sure where this one comes from… but I looked at the photo, and a few minutes later, there were exactly 100 words. I cut three. “When the spirit moves you…” I’ve so missed my wonderful fellow Fictioneers, but I’ve been traveling and busy de-cluttering–– making room for change.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly flash fiction challenge. Use the photo prompt to weave a 100-word story. Master of Ceremonies is Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Visit her blog, Addicted to Purple for more details, or to join our merry band. This week’s photo is from J. Hardy Carroll.
As always I welcome honest, constructive feedback; please leave a comment and tell me what you think.
© J. Hardy Carroll
When The Spirit Moves You
“I still talk to you.
Just before I fall asleep, I feel you there beside me. Sometimes, I put my hand on the mattress and think I can still feel your weight, your heat… but the mattress has shifted. I drift off with my hand brushing the air.
When the leaves are changing, and I remember how we laid in their sweet decay, I say your name aloud and feel you wrap your arms around me. I pull my sweater tighter, warm and safe.
Today, I sit beside your gravestone, calling your name, but you’re not here.”
(word count: 97)
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Help Me Reach My Goals! KAPOW! The Tales From the Motherland Facebook page recently hit the 2015 goal of 800 likes (which I set after hitting the 700 mark)! I’m going big for the next year and aiming for 1,000!! Have you stopped by to spread some fairy dust? Follow me on Twitter, LeBron James does (yes, for real)! Most importantly, if you like a post I’ve written, hit Like and leave a comment. Honest, constructive feedback is always appreciated. Click Follow; you’ll get each new post delivered by email, no spam. ©2015 Please note, that all content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, I’m grateful, but please give proper credit; plagiarism sucks!
TALES FROM THE MOTHERLAND 
It’s lovely, really touching. I’m a fan of cemeteries and find they often inspire me to write as well.
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After writing this piece, I took a stroll in our local cemetery. I took photos of veteran’s graves. Such a peaceful, meaningful place. Thanks for your feedback, Renee; it is much appreciated.
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Very moving Dawn.
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Thanks so much Louise.
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You could be writing a very memory out of my own life. Thank you for it. It is good to remember the “one” on this day in particular.
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Welcome to Tales From the Motherland, Jellico84, thanks so much for taking the time to read my piece and share your thoughts. I’m sorry for your loss, but touched that you feel connection in reading my story. Thanks so much for sharing.
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That is lovely. I do like the leaves “in their sweet decay”.
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Thanks Patrick! I swear, it wrote itself!
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Dear Dawn,
I’m happy to see you back. 😀
A very touching story that tugs at the heartstrings. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks Rochelle. It’s good to be back! I’m clearing out space: emotionally, literally and otherwise, for moving forward. Thanks for your lovely feedback. xox
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Very touching and extremely well-written. As for me, though, I’m against the concept of dying and I’m probably going to do away with it.
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If anyone can do it, you can Perry! And thanks for your kind words.
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Touching!
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Thanks!
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I personally do not believe our loved ones are in their graves. My sister says our parents take turns visiting the three of us.
I just take her word for it.
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I agree. I know I’ve felt the presence of loved ones who’ve passed on. I spent time at the cemetery this morning and was struck by the passage of time and the fact that each of those stones represent someone who was loved…
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So poignant. This called up several images and memories for me. Your words create great images! It’s a nice balance between calling up images, but leaving space for my own.
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Thanks Heidi! I truly couldn’t ask for a nice compliment. xox
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Good piece.
Would “you are no longer here” work better because clearly she thinks he was there at one point?
Probably trivial but it flows better for me with the added “no longer”.
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I can see your point, Tracey, but for me the meaning has more to do with her loved one not being at the grave… but in all of the other places they shared. It’s a good point though and I appreciate your thought; thanks!
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That makes perfect sense now. Thanks for the clarification.
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Always love to see a post from you in my inbox. As I slog through writing every day this month, I think of you and how much your chutzpah inspires me. Cheers to you and a beautiful post.
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Thanks friend. That means so much. I wish I was slogging through writing, but I think that all the de-cluttering I’ve been doing is simply preparation for movement forward. Fingers crossed! May the writing Gods remain with you. xox
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I felt the same vibe as that about which you wrote when I saw this week’s photo. Of course, feeling the vibe and being moved to write are two different things. Thank goodness I can count on your writing talents to put words to the vibe. I especially like the added memory, rolling in leaves together, projected into the scene. That was a nice seasonal touch. – Mike
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Thanks so much, Mike. I saw it and the writing really flowed. Such a sweet feeling! It was great seeing you last week… all the best as you move forward. 🙂
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Nice, Dawn. Good to see you, friend! I tend to think the gravestone is not where we feel our loved ones. There have better ideas where they want to be. It makes totally understand people who don’t get a headstone, etc.
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Seriously. I’m not sure where we go, but I imagine each of us feels loss differently. I hope I’m remembered by the sea, in the mountains, in each bite of apple crips. 😉 Thanks Amy.
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Nicely reflective and very moving. Glad to see you back.
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Thanks Sandra; it’s nice that anyone noticed my brief absence. : ) I miss this group anytime I can’t be here! I appreciate your kind feedback; thanks.
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Really touching story, Dawn. Well written as usual. Welcome back. — Suzanne J.
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Thanks Suzanne! Much appreciated.
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Reblogged this on ugiridharaprasad.
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A clever portrait of bereavement: well done.
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Thanks Mick. Working at Hospice, I get to do a lot of character study. I appreciate your feedback.
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Touchingly beautiful, nice to see you back 🙂
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Thanks Helen. I’m happy to catch up, and honored that you like my story.
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Aww Dawn, this was most touching and deeply felt by me. Mick is not buried in a grave but rests inside a Coke bottle on my mantle – for now. I know, I can see you scratching your head!
http://adelectablelife.com/2014/12/29/a-little-heart-to-heart/ to help clarify!
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Dale, I’m off to read your piece, but I recently learned that you lost your husband not long ago. I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m touched that my story moved you, and thank you for steering me to your story… I’ll post something there. (( Hug ))
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Thank you, Dawn. It is not an obligation, that is for sure but please do, if you wish!
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I never go fishing of hunting without feeling the presence of my Dad. Sure, there’s a marker at the cemetery that has his and Mom’s name on it, but they’re not there unless one of us comes to visit.
Very touching, Dawn.
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Thank you so much Russell. I’m always doubly moved when I get a serious response from you… and, I will always feel my father when I am amongst old growth trees, on a wide rocky beach, or in Carmel, CA. I’ve only been to his gravesite a few times, but he wasn’t there. Thanks for sharing your lovely thoughts. xox
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Well, don’t expect too many serious thoughts from me. There are enough people doing that already. Someone has to lighten the mood.
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Enjoy your ‘spirit’ from someone who sees and feels spirits. 🙂
Lily
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I know what you mean Hafong. I appreciate your feedback.
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Touching and you can feel the longing. Nice job capturing all this with only 97 words!
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Thanks Audra! I’ve missed you. Sorry I’ve been so absent… xox
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Sweet sadness – lovely story. I’ve been absent for a month too – sometimes life gets in the way of writing, doesn’t it?
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Yes, life is busy! I was only gone for 2 weeks… but felt longer! Thanks for stopping by, Liz. 🙂
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Sad and sweet.
Randy
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Thanks so much, Randy.
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I, too, like “laid in their sweet decay.” It follows the flow of death and yearning.
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Thanks Alicia. I always appreciate your feedback.
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Ouf! a tear jerker this one, beautifully written. I could see my mother the year my step-father passed, she felt his presence by her side for over a year and then he left and then she grieved for the first time.
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I think a lot of people experience delayed grief. It’s hard not to when you lose someone who was so important to you! Thanks for your feedback; it is much appreciated.
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This is so moving, and very beautiful.
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Thank you so much; that really means a lot to me.
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A lovely recollection of a bond that is broken only with death.
Your story touches the heart in a way none of us want to know ~ death of a love we’ll forever miss.
I must go and finish crying now. 😂
Isadora 😎
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Aww, thanks Isadora. Your tears, real or fictional, mean so much. 🙂
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Hauntingly sad and moving
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Thanks you Ruby; I appreciate that.
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A touching and poignant story, beautifully done.
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Thanks so much Subroto; I appreciate you taking the time.
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