Rosemary for Remembrance

frost-on-the-tombstone-liz

PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young

Thanks to Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers for hosting. If you’d like to participate, visit here.

For more stories, visit here.


Rosemary for Remembrance

What would you say true love is?

Many say it’s fragile. I believe it’s strong, persistent, timeless.

The rosemary my great-grandfather planted, remembrance for the bride he lost in 1918 to the pandemic, thrives.

I note your apathy.

Let me convey a fact about rosemary: it cannot survive Vermont winters. Yet, almost 100 years after planting, this fragrant herb of the Mediterranean flourishes next to the grave of his beloved. Even in a hospitable climate, this would be a feat.

His diary said: “I fell in love at first sight and will love her with my last.”

I think…beyond.

 

end 4/29/2017

S. Darlington

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31st Wedding Anniversary

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© John Brand

Thank you to Alistair at Sunday Photo Fiction as always for providing this prompt! To read more stories for this prompt, click here. The original prompt is here.


31 Wedding Anniversary

“The ivy, John,” Ramona says.

“Yes, dear,” says John while continuing his Sudoku.

“I hate to nag . . .”

“Yes, dear.”

“…but the ivy will kill the tree. It taps into the moisture around the roots and sucks the life out of it.”

“I know exactly how it feels.”

 

end 4/29/2017

S. Darlington

The End of the World as We Know It–Y is for Yucky #AtoZchallenge #amwriting

y

 

yucky

The “oh” escaped my lips, high-pitched, definitely surprised.

Alecia smiled, nodding. “I know, right?” she said. “I’m as shocked as you are.”

Nowhere near.

I looked at Jason who wouldn’t meet my eyes. Alecia captured my hands in hers and jumped up and down just like we used to do when we were teenagers. I was supposed to do it too, jump up and down and screech because she was engaged to Jason, my Jason. My stomach did, however–bounce up and down as if on a nausea-inducing carnival ride.

“I’m happy, so happy for you,” I said, meaning it, for Alecia.

She frowned. “You don’t look well.”

“I’m feeling kind of yucky,” I said. “You know, hanging around preschoolers five days a week, constantly catching something.”

She hugged me, preschooler ailments be damned. “We’ll celebrate when you’re feeling better.”

Which felt like it might be when hell froze over, but I kept that to myself. I wouldn’t let her get hurt, even if my insides felt like they might explode. I glanced at Jason once more, met his eyes, and my imagined preschooler sickness grew in leaps and bounds and hopscotched around and suddenly my life felt like an REM song and I felt not so fine.

 

end 4/29/2017

S. Darlington

But It’s Friday Night!

I’m lacquered

but he’s knackered

long week, he’s talking backward.

It’s a hazard

of married bad word

I’m cringing over fractured

phrasing, he’s snoring

I’m exploring

ways of touring

tropical beaches

eating peaches

thinking Eliot

he’s more likely to Shelly it

But he’s asleep

counting sheep

I could weep

But damn there’s Netflix

put my hair in clips

watch a show about paramedics

sigh, fall asleep listening to Hendrix.

 

end 4/28/2017

S. Darlington

X is for Xenophobia #AtoZchallenge #amwriting

x

Picture1

Rachel grabbed the sleeve of Andy’s shirt to tug him out of earshot. “Your mother has an accent?”

Andy shrugged. “Sure. Didn’t I mention?”

“No. I would have remembered.”

Andy frowned. Her tone sounded far more irritated than the situation dictated.

“Is it a problem?” he asked.

Rachel nodded. “Probably. My family is not the forgiving type.”

“Forgiving? What?” Realization flooded over Andy. “You’re kidding. My mother wasn’t even born then.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rachel said, her lips set firmly.

“Get over it. She’s not from where you think she is.”

“She has the accent.”

 

end 4/28/2017

S. Darlington

Quilt #amwriting

Quilt

My mother has a quilt

made by hands

gnarled yet able

for a lost brother

I barely knew.

On sick days

she’d wrap me in the quilt

tell me the blanket

was love

to keep me warm

and safe

each square of fabric

something of his

sewn together

bound by thread

like family threads

even death

can’t break.

end 4/27/2017

S. Darlington