By Karen Crawford
“I didn’t fall,” the neighbor says.
We help him inside. Industrial-strength antiseptic permeates the room, reminding me of the nursing home where my mother-in-law lived to die.
His wife wheels up, says their house was featured in a magazine. I see yellowing photographs, mirrors without shine. She grips my hand, “Live life now. This is worse than I ever thought it could be.” Her eyes turn vacant. Mine tear. She asks my name. My husband’s name. Her husband’s name. I look around, a lifetime of frozen memories hanging on their walls.
Later at home, I notice my own walls need painting.
Wonderfully poignant.
Thank you so much!
What a sad and lovely story. You developed the characters in the dialogue with such an economy of words. Compelling message. Thanks for a great read.
Thank you so much for reading!
Truthfully scarey
Thank you!
Beautifully written!
Thank you so much, Sreelekha!
An accomplished piece illustrating the power of understatement, especially that last line. Perfect use of 101 words.
Thank you so very much, Tim!
Beautiful! I love how the ending reminds us to notice life before it passes us by.
Thank you so much for reading, Genevieve!
Life runs so fast, you look in the mirror and you look older. The story is filled with compassion and love. Makes you want get up and dance.
Thank you so much for reading!
Sad. We all know what comes. Thank you.
Thank you so much for reading!
That strikes a chord! Moving.
Thank you so much, Pamela!
Thank you so much, Pamela!
“Mirrors without shine.” Just three words out of 101 and they conjure up the lifetime of memories reflected in the glass. Thank you for sharing your gift of words. They inspire me to take pause and reflect on the brevity of my life, and serve to remind me that my walls can use a fresh coat of bright paint.
Thank you so very much for reading and the kind words!
I love this story, Karen. Wonderfully evocative. Well done!
Thank you so much, Robert!