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FRIDAY FICTIONEERS: 'Mirrors'

Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers offers her community of writers a weekly opportunity to write a 100 word story in response to a photographic prompt.  This week, the photo prompt is provide by Rochelle herself!



Mirrors
In a world without mirrors I…

Search for myself in the kitchen, piecing together fragments to make a Picasso-esque portrait of youth:

nose distorted by the curve of the faucet
irises lost in the dark window of the microwave
hands segmented by the patterns in the crystal.

Seek out my silhouette in magazines, only to find that ‘Kardashian’ does not quite fit.

Turn to him, hoping that the baritone of his voice will help sketch the pieces of me that are missing.

No. 

In a world without mirrors I must find another way to see, another way to be… me.

Comments

  1. Dear Mrs. W.

    I love this search for self. Nicely done.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yep. It's very, very hard to get a clear view of oneself.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hi miss,
    I really like it! Especially the imagery of a fragmented Picasso-esque portrait.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Self search, does it ever end ? Nice take

    ReplyDelete
  5. I really like this - the language is lovely. Excellent.

    ReplyDelete

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FRIDAY FICTIONEERS: 'The Forest'

Rochelle, host of Friday Fictioneers, challenges her community of writers each week to compose a short (100 word) story in response to a photographic prompt.  This week, the prompt is provided courtesy of Connie Gayer.



The Forest
When asked to draw a family tree she sketches a forest.  Charcoal pines stalk the borders of her page, their blackness billowing behind them like warnings.  With each smudge they creep closer; a crowd sneaking towards the centre.
There, another pine.  A sapling, perhaps.  Smaller than the rest.  Slight.  Leaves curling inwards around arms that cross, that say NO WAY, that say GO AWAY.
Bark and branches crackle.  The sound fills empty spaces and slaps into subservience words that dare defy their desires. 
*

When next asked, she again sketches a forest.  This time: a hole where the sapling once stood.