I suppose I'm getting nostalgic. The white landscape is suddenly interlacing with my reverie. I must return just for the memory of Blizzie.
Faint paw prints in the snow-covered trail.
It was walking along a lake, at the foot of a mountain. A harrowing meow in the blizzard. A brindle kitten.
Providence. I slipped her under my coat, took her home, lit the fire, watched her swell with warmth and purrs.
Some might add: “And you lived happily ever after” to complete the tale.
“Ever after ... strange words ...” I whisper wistfully, looking at the small cross under the elm tree.
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My challenge: writing a 100-word story.
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Well done.
Beautifully done, Erika, especially that last image. ***
Today's melancholy marches on...
Awwww......but good!
Lots of twoness here. Shifts are subtle, verblessness sharpens imagery.
*
Time to say thank you to you all for your very appreciated words.
Moving. Made me remember. *
Thank you, John.
"A brindle kitten."
Nice.
Thanks Bill.
Such a sweet little gem. *