By K J Robinson
Janey slowly turns the key in an arthritic lock, opening to a waft of stale cigarettes and cloudy memories.
The ancient fridge whirrs and wheezes at the oxygen masks lying in a heap by the bin, while exhausted pots wait patiently beside a cold oven, long past dinner time. Warmed only by a dim ray of autumn sunshine through the nicotine-stained window, unopened mail weakly beckons from the table in the tired sitting room. A man on a double-glazing flyer watches with a hollow smile as she scans the room for some comfort.
It’s the empty chair that does it.
Ooh, it’s the empty chair that does it. The oxygen masks intrigued me…
Thanks for reading Bonnie – I’m glad you were intrigued!
That first sentence sets the scene brilliantly. And what a last line. Great writing.
Thank you David.
That last line.
Thanks for reading KF.
Oh to be old and lonely. To be old and lonely… I’m 78 years old and it was once like this for me too…why is it that the young and able don’t learn from nor respect the wisdom that we offer freely and without bounds. Why is it that in our culture we value possessions, fame and positions more than anything or anyone else…WHY! Why not look out from our selfish selves to other cultures in our so very small planet and finally learn to really value life for all it’s worth. To value beauty and peace and forgiveness, and learn to do more with less.
well said. From birth we are encouraged to chase material things and forget to look over our shoulder and remember family and friends.
Awesome writing!
Thanks Emma!
Very descriptive.
Thanks Bud.
Perfectly selected adjectives add weight to the story. Great piece.
Thank you Maria.