Patterned Stories
Patterned Stories
The old man spoke, and the children gathered at his feet absorbed wisdom like deserts revel in midseason rains. He spoke to them of his long life as the wealthiest man alive.
He remembered the love he had for his partner, his friend, his wife. He told them of her talent for music, and the ways she spread love like free honey. He informed us all that she made him rich beyond dreams of avarice. Their riches were not of silver or gold, but of memories.
Together they had reaped more joy than either had sown alone.
I want that for myself, I will have it. I dress in their stories patterned and purple as night. I take this pair to my heart, and hold them there.
The morning sun warmed her face with second-hand light, he said goodbye, dust motes dancing across the coffin's satin pillow.
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The prose piece above contains a line of poetry (in bold) from Kimberly Blaeser. The line chosen is from her poem, “When We Sing of Might,” you can read the entire poem at the Literary Hub.
And as usual, I was put up to no good by those poetic prompters over at DVerse.
I would love to know what you thought about this piece.
Please consider leaving a comment.
Christopher, what a heartwarming yet sad story. I'm not sure which is worse, to have had that ideal love and lost it, or never to have experienced it?
ReplyDeleteInteresting twist and turns in your flash fiction prosery. Wealth means so little at the moment of transition. Love is the common denominator in all transactions, when it is not blocked or ignored.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful love story! I particularly liked the line - 'Together they had reaped more joy than either had sown alone. '
ReplyDeleteThis one generates a tear at the ending. What a surprise
ReplyDeleteHappy you dropped by to read mine
Much💜love
Beautiful the way you show us the dust mights across the coffin satin which ties in so well with the stories as clothing. Powerful storytelling.
ReplyDeleteHeart-achingly beautiful. It is a blessing to experience this kind of love.
ReplyDeleteI'm wondering if he was the wealthiest man alive because of his money or his life with his wife. I'm hoping the latter.
ReplyDeleteA touching, beautiful story!
ReplyDeleteExcellent prosery story of a devoted relationship and beautiful memories!
ReplyDeleteWow, Chris, you rocked this prompt. That was chilling.
ReplyDelete-David [ben Alexander]
http://skepticskaddish.com/
A heartwarming take on the prompt, Chris. The final line especially is beautiful: "The morning sun warmed her face with second-hand light, he said goodbye, dust motes dancing across the coffin's satin pillow."
ReplyDelete